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THE 


WHITE  HORSE  OF  \YOOTTOK 


THE 


WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 


3  itcrg 

OF   LOVE,   SPORT  AND  ADVENTURE  IN  THE  MIDLAND 

COUNTIES    OF    ENGLAND    AND    ON    THE 

FRONTIER    OF    AMERICA. 


By  CHARLES  J.  FOSTER, 

ACTHOR  OF   "  The  HiGH-METTtED  RaCEE,"  "  ThE  LETTERS  OP  PrhTATEER,"  « FiFTT  DeRBT 

Winners,"  etc.    Editor  op  "The  Trotting  Horse  of  America,"  and  of 
"  Field,  Covee,  and  Trap  Shogtinq." 


PHILADELPHIA: 
PORTER    &     COATES, 

No.    822   Chestnut   Street. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1878,  by 

CHARLES  J.  FOSTER, 
in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


F? 


AS   A   SMALL   TOKEN 

OP  GREAT   ESTEEM    AND   DEEP   PERSONAL   REGARD, 

THIS    WORK    IS    VERY    RESPECTFULLY 

DEDICATED    TO 

R.  W.  CAMERON,  ESQ., 

OF    CLIFTON,    S.  I.,    BY    HIS    SINCERE    FRIEND, 
THE    AUTHOR. 


M585095 


THE 

WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 


CHAPTER  L 

"  I  thought  he  was  expoundiug  the  law  and  the  prophets  ;  but  on  drawing 
a  little  nearer,  I  found  that  he  was  warmly  expatiating  upon  the  merits  of  a 
brown  horse."  Bracebridge  Hall. 

THE  horses  of  the  goblin  and  demon  riders  have  almost 
always  been  black.  It  is  so  stated  by  the  writers  and 
historians  who  have  recorded  the  events  in  which  they  figured 
and  the  scenes  in  which  they  appeared.  He  who  carried  Heme 
the  Hunter  under  the  hoary,  wide-spreading  oaks  of  the  green 
glades  of  Windsor  Park  was  black  as  night.  Black  as  mid- 
night thunder  is  the  great  steed  ridden  by  the  gigantic  demon 
over  the  crags,  through  the  brakes,  by  the  gaping  mouths  of 
ancient  mines,  long  uu worked,  on  the  slopes  of  the  Hartz 
Mountains.  Black  was  the  stallion  who  bore  the  strange  shape 
through  the  pelting  storm,  to  demand  the  penalty  nominated 
in  the  bond  between  the  devil  and  Tom  ^yalker.  On  the  con- 
trary. Spirits  of  Health  of  the  equestrian  order — founders  of 
empires,  demi-gods,  and  saints — have  commonly  appeared  on 
milk-white  steeds.  White  was  the  horse  that  carried  Hengist 
and  in  the  front  of  battle  shook  his  snowy  mane.  White  was 
he  the  good  St.  James  bestrode  when  he  fought  before  the  ranks 
of  Cortez  against  the  heathen  of  America.  To  be  sure  some 
have  hinted  that  St.  James  took  no  part  in  the  battle  at  all, 
and  that  the  man  on  the  white  horse  wa^  Francesco  de  Morla ; 
but  the  same  people  would  dispute  the  fact  that  the  Great 
Twin  Brethren  appeared  mounted  and  armed,  and  achieved 
victory  for  the  Roman  power  at  the  battle  of  Lake  Regillus. 
Yet  what  saith  the  ancient  tradition  ? 


8  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N. 

"  So  spake  he,  and  was  buckling 

Tighter  black  Auster's  band, 
When  he  was  aware  of  a  princely  pair 

That  rode  at  his  right  hand. 
So  like  they  were,  no  mortal 

Might  one  from  other  know; 
White  as  snow  their  armor  was, 

Their  steeds  were  white  as  snow." 

It  may  seem  at  the  first  view  that  White  Surrey  of  Bosworth 
Field  was  a  notable  exception,  but  the  truth  is  that  the  char- 
acter of  his  master,  Richard  III.,  has  been  grossly  calumniated. 
History  and  biography  founded  upon  the  writings  of  poets  and 
the  traditions  of  players  are  always  wrong.  Shakespeare  hav- 
ing for  his  patroness,  Elizabeth  Tudor  of  the  rival  house,  dealt 
unfairly  with  the  Duke  of  Gloster,  and  the  actors  have  done 
worse.  He  was  a  wise,  accomplished,  valiant  young  prince,  a 
little  unscrupulous,  it  may  be,  but  on  the  whole,  a  good  king, 
as  kings  went  in  the  Middle  Ages  and  the  wars  of  the  rival 
roses.  He  was  killed  in  Leicestershire,  at  about  thirty  years  of 
age,  and  now  the  actors  depict  an  elderly  ruffian,  a  monster 
of  depravity  and  deformity,  more  like  the  boar,  which  was 
his  crest,  than  the  wise  young  prince  whom  AVarwick  cher- 
ished, and  to  whom  he  gave  his  best  beloved  daughter,  the 
Lady  Anne  Neville.  Therefore,  White  Surrey  was  no  excep- 
tion to  the  rule  that  white  horses  are  the  agents  of  love,  beauty 
and  beneficence,  as  a  thousand  passages  to  young  maidens  and 
princesses  and  milk-white  palfreys  go  to  show. 

But  for  all  that,  the  apparition  John  Bullfinch  saw  in  his 
ride,  on  a  wild  night,  through  the  thick  woods  of  Wootton, 
came  in  semblance  of  a  white  horse — white  as  the  sea-foam 
that  whirls  about  the  bows  of  the  Flying  Dutchman  when  the 
hoarse  voice  of  Vanderdecken  roars  in  the  howling  gale.  The 
White  Horse  haunted  the  memory  of  John  Bullfinch  for  many 
a  day.  He  declared  that  it  was  white ;  he  affirmed  that  it  was 
in  the  likeness  of  a  horse ;  and  as  there  was  no  better  horse- 
man within  the  borders  of  the  counties  in  which  the  Woods 
of  Wootton  lie  than  John,  everybody  said,  "he  ought  to 
know." 

He  affirmed,  furthermore,  that  it  was  supernatural,  and  for 
some  time  nobody  ventured  to  contradict  him  on  that  point. 
It  might  not  have  been  altogether  safe  to  do  so,  for  John  was 
as  positive  as  any  other  Englishman,  of  fair  possessions  and 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  9 

past  the  middle  age,  in  the  Hundred  of  Ridingcumstoke.  This 
is  saying  a  great  deal.  In  fact  John  was  seldom  confuted  in 
his  arguments  or  contradicted  in  his  assertions.  His  landlord, 
Sir  Jerry  Snaffle,  was  a  mighty  man  in  those  parts — rich, 
liberal,  a  great  sportsman,  an  authority  in  the  weighty  matters 
of  the  turf — an  English  gentleman  after  John's  own  heart. 
From  Sir  Jerry  John  Bullfinch  rented  many  an  acre,  and 
many  a  rood  of  rich  arable  and  pasture  land,  just  as  his  fore- 
fathers had  rented  from  former  baronets  of  the  Snaffle  family 
time  out  of  mind.  He  likewise  farmed  his  small  patrimonial 
estate  of  Hawkwell,  a  snug  place,  the  nest  of  many  genera- 
tions of  Bullfinches  centuries  before  John  himself  was  born. 
Thus  he  was  freeholder  as  well  as  tenant,  a  man  of  substance, 
of  that  solid  character  that  his  opinions  were  just  about  as 
easily  shaken  as  one  of  the  oaks  which  grew  upon  his  land. 
Like  his  landlord,  John  Bullfinch  was  a  sportsman.  Hunting, 
coursing,  and  horse-racing  he  esteemed  as  the  great  delights, 
not  to  say  virtues,  of  the  country,  especially  the  last,  in  its  two 
branches — over  the  flat  and  over  the  steeple-chase  course.  He 
also  liked  social  conviviality  and  discourse  of  reason  when  the 
day  was  well  nigh  done.  His  favorite  beverage  at  night  was 
brandy  and  water,  warm.  At  early  morning  he  sometimes  took 
milk  punch.  In  the  middle  of  the  day  nut-brown  ale,  brewed  in 
March  or  October,  and  kept  to  a  mellow  age,  he  most  esteemed. 
He  cared  little  for  wine  at  any  time,  and  held  in  contempt 
the  light  productions  of  France.  Claret,  in  his  opinion,  was 
calculated  to  impair  the  British  Constitution,  a  thing  for  which 
he  had  profound  reverence,  whether  considered  corporeally,  or 
as  existing  in  the  three  estates  of  the  realm.  He  was  a  good 
farmer  in  his  own  way,  which  was,  in  the  main,  that  of  his  an- 
cestors. He  employed  more  laborers  than  any  other  occupier 
of  the  same  number  of  acres,  and  many  of  them  had  worked 
for  above  a  score  of  years  at  Hawkwell.  He  had  as  fine  horses, 
as  fat  oxen,  as  large  flocks  of  massive,  long-wooled  sheep  as  any 
man  in  the  four  counties  of  Buckinghamshire,  Oxfordshire, 
Northamptonshire,  and  Warwickshire  ;  but  he  stubbornly  re- 
sisted the  notions  which  had  begun  to  prevail  touching  scien- 
tific agriculture  and  organized  husbandry.  Had  not  the  fat- 
test and  biggest  bullock  ever  fed  in  EugUmd,  except  one,  been 
raised  and  grazed  at  Hawkwell  ?     Had  not  four  of  his  men, 


10  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

with  their  scythes  upon  their  shoulders,  and  backed  by  Sir  Jerry 
Snaffle  and  himself,  challenged  for  a  mowing-match  against 
all  England  ?  These  were  the  questions  which,  with  a  loud 
voice  and  a  red  face,  John  put  to  the  advocates  of  artificial 
manures  and  mowing-machines.  If  at  such  times  the  famous 
Mr.  Mechi  had  been  present,  and  declared  that  Hawkwell  w^as 
ill-farmed,  John  Bullfinch  would  probably  have  knocked  him 
down.  He  had  once  been  exasperated  by  a  flippant  youth 
from  London,  who  depreciated  the  quality  of  his  cattle,  and 
recommended  him  to  go  and  see  Paul  Potter's  young  bull. 
"Potter,  Potter!  who's  he,  and  what's  the  breed  of  his 
young  bull  ?"  said  John.  With  the  country  gentlemen,  with 
his  brother  farmers,  and  with  the  laborers  John  Bullfinch  was 
a  general  favorite.  John  Bullfinch  was  liberal  in  sentiment, 
generous  with  his  means,  a  good  rider  across  country,  and 
known  to  the  choice  spirits  of  the  land,  from  peers  of  the 
realm  to  prize-fighters.  In  his  intercourse  with  the  latter  class 
John  never  failed  to  deplore  the  falling  off*  of  the  Ring  in 
respectability  and  usefulness  since  the  days  of  that  great  man, 
Mr.  Thomas  Cribb,  and  his  trainer.  Captain  Barclay.  Though 
some  modern  professors  of  the  fistic  art  succeeded  in  getting 
from  him  liberal  contributions  towards  the  "battle-money," 
they  were  always  paid  over  with  strong  protests  against  the 
"  dropping  system,"  and  formal  notices  that  "  The  King"  would 
be  clean  done  for  if  ever  there  was  "  another  cross." 

The  home  of  the  yeoman,  Hawkwell  Farm,  w^as  a  cheery 
place  at  the  dawn  of  a  brisk,  wintry  morning.  The  faggot  on 
the  wide  hearth  blazed  and  crackled  as  though  it  would  leap 
up  the  chimney,  and,  like  the  devout  Parsee,  greet  the  first 
beam  of  the  rising  sun.  The  game-cock,  full  of  valor  and 
pride,  crowed  in  the  stack-yard.  The  house  girls  sang  and 
swept;  the  cherry-cheeked  milkmaids  called  up  the  lowing 
kine  ;  flails  thundered  on  the  stout  barn  floor ;  geese  screamed 
on  the  margin  of  the  pond,  flapping  their  wings  as  though 
about  to  mount  to  the  upper  air  and  join  the  flight  of  their 
wild  kindred  of  the  mist  and  cloud.  The  sow  and  litter  clam- 
ored for  the  filling  of  the  trough  ;  colts  frolicked  in  the  pad- 
docks ;  heifers  in  the  straw  yard.  The  rooks  cawed  hoarsely 
from  the  tops  of  the  lofty  elms.  The  pied  bull,  full-fronted 
and  savage  in  aspect,  bellowed  over  the  ox-fence ;  and,  high 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  11 

over  the  ancient  well  in  the  blackthorn  brake,  the  falcon 
•wheeled  and  sailed. 

The  morning  sunshine  had  just  begun  to  glance  through 
the  windows  and  athwart  the  floors  when  May  Bullfinch  trip- 
ped down-stairs.  She  was  a  fair  lass  of  midland  English 
type,  about  nineteen,  bright,  brown-haired,  and  beautiful. 
She  had  hazel  eyes,  of  a  "  punishing  size,"  as  her  brother 
Jack  remarked,  and  in  her  complexion  there  were  blent  the 
old  favorites  of  the  poets — the  lily  of  the  valley  and  the  red, 
red  rose  !  Her  form  was  round,  but  light  and  graceful ;  her 
step  firm  but  airy,  like  that  of  a  young  colt  in  the  dewy  pas- 
ture at  the  spring  of  day.  May  was  the  only  daughter  of 
John  Bullfinch  and  the  wife  he  had  lost  some  ten  years  before, 
all  too  soon.  As  she  grew  up,  the  yeoman  .saw  again,  as  in 
the  light  of  love  and  memory,  the  fair  lass  he  had  wooed  and 
won  above  a  score  of  years  before,  and  who  had  been  the  most 
blessed  and  best  of  women,  a  good  wife  and  fond  mother.  The 
girl  met  upon  the  threshold  her  brother,  a  stripling,  some  years 
younger  than  herself,  with  the  family  features  well  marked. 
But  there  was  this  difierence  :  what  in  her  seemed  gentle  as 
well  as  gay,  was  in  the  boy  impatient  as  well  as  lively.  His 
cheek  was  of  a  browner  hue,  his  hair  of  a  darker  shade.  His 
hazel  eyes  were  as  bright  but  not  as  large  and  soft  as  those  of 
his  sister.  He  was  tali  for  his  age,  well  made,  quick  in 
action,  and  with  that  ease  and  confidence  which  horsemanship 
and  the  following  of  field  sports  in  com}muj  with  those  of 
greater  age  always  give  to  the  young.  The  lax:l  wore  a  tight 
jacket  of  brown  moleskin,  cor<i  breeches,  leather  leggings  and 
spurs,  and  carried  a  long-lashed  whip  in  his  hand.  He  was 
generally  pronounced  another  excellent  specimen  of  the  good 
old  family  of  the  Bullfinches,  sure  to  hunt,  shoot  and  fight, 
and  to  cultivate  the  sciences  of  horse-racing  and  breeding 
game-cocks.  The  moralists  of  this  day  and  generation  may 
shake  their  heads,  but  young  Bullfinch  was  a  youth  nearly 
half  a  century  ago,  amd  perhaps  still  lives  in  the  home  of  his 
forefathers,  worthy,  wealthy  and  respected.  True  it  is,  that 
as  he  rode  about  his  father's  farm,  and  frolicked  in  the  merry- 
makings of  the  neighborhood.  Parkins  the  constable  and  the 
beadle  of  the  parish,  made  moan  over  their  beer,  and  pro- 
nounced him,,  in  common  with  other  youth  of  the  same  age 


12  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N. 

and  bailhvick,  "a  good  deal  too  forrad  !"  The  boy  had  just 
reached  the  time  of  life  when  ladies  no  longer  called  him  by 
the  coaxing  and  endearing  name — "  Johnny."  "  Johnny"  had 
became  plain  "  Jack"  in  everybody's  mouth,  never  more  to 
change  until  upon  the  fond  lips  of  sweetheart  and  wife  it 
should  be  rounded  and  softened  into  John.  He  was  to  all  the 
country-side  Young  Jack,  and  sometimes,  like  the  barons  and 
squires,  took  particularity  from  his  father's  patrimony,  and  was 
called  Young  Jack  of  Hawk  well.  At  this  moment  the  flush 
of  exercise  was  upon  his  cheek,  and  the  white  hoar  frost  upon 
his  curly  hair.  He  had  already  ridden  afield  and  returned 
for  breakfast.  The  table  was  spread  with  the  substantial  fare 
of  a  country  farm-house — eggs  and  bacon,  cold  diine,  a  brown 
loaf,  and  a  dish  of  bread  and  butter.  The  Jad  was  eager  to 
begin.  He  looked  at  the  chine  and  suified  the  fragrance  of 
the  broiled  bacon.  He  went  to  the  window  and  whistled, 
turned  to  the  corner,  and  took  up  his  gun  from  the  side  of  the 
tall  eight-day  clock. 

"  Father's  behind  time,  May,  and  I'm  standing  this  bacon 
like  old  Dash  at  a  leveret  in  turnips." 

He  might  have  added  to  this,  but  the  solid  tread  of  John 
Bullfinch  was  "heard  upon  the  stairs,  and  in  a  moment  he  en- 
tered the  room.  A  ruddy,  smooth-shaven  man  of  forty-five  or 
perhaps  fifty,  stout,  muscular  and  active.  Nevertheless,  he 
stooped  a  little,  and  his  legs  were  bowed  from  much  riding  in 
the  saddle.  There  were  a  few  threads  of  silver  in  his  hair, 
but  his  face  was  unwrinkled,  and  his  voice  round  and  firm. 

*'  ^''^y  gi'ace.  May,"  said  the  iarmer. 

With  reverent,  down-cast  eyes  and  soft  palms  laid  together, 
the  maiden  asked  of  the  bountiful  giver  of  all  good  a  bless- 
ing. Little  was  said  until  the  morning  meal  was  ended,  for 
neither  the  father  nor  the  son  cared  to  pause  in  eating  for  the 
sake  of  mere  conversation. 

*' I  think  I  shall  do  well  enough  now  until  lunch  time,"  said 
the  youth,  rising.  "  The  air  of  the  hills  in  the  morning  gives 
an  appetite.  Father,  I  saw  a  fox  steal  into  the  Long  Gorse 
just  at  dawn,  and  a  j)air  of  magpies  chattered  at  him  from 
the  oak  tree  over  the  stile.  A  long-legged  'un  !  What  a  run 
he'll  give  us  when  the  hounds  come  our  way  again,  if  he 


THE  WRITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK.  13 

breaks  and  goes  away  for  the  open  Otmoor  country,  instead  of 
making  for  the  woods  at  Wootton  !" 

<'  Jack,"  said  May,  "  another  half-year's  run  to  school  would 
do  you  good.  You  will  be  sorry  some  of  these  days  that 
your  father  took  you  home  so  soon." 

"  My  dear,"  said  John  Bullfinch,  "I  don't  know  that  1  have 
taken  him  home  for  good  and  all.  It  depends  upon  his  be- 
havior. Jack  has  as  much  learning  now  as  most  of  the  Bull- 
finches ever  had,  and  we  always  managed  to  get  through  the 
run,  be  the  day  ever  so  long  and  the  country  ever  so  stiff  As 
Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  says,  men  are  not  educated  in  school  much. 
I  shall  not  make  my  son  a  man  before  he's  a  boy.  But  he's 
the  only  one  we  have,  ^lay,  and  now  that  he  can  read,  write, 
and  cipher  well,  to  my  mind  he  is  as  well  with  us  as  he  would 
be  at  boarding-school." 

"  I  love  to  have  him  at  home,  father ;  I  know^  that  he  is 
good  at  his  books  and  figures,  and  plain  English,"  said  May ; 
"  people,  however,  think  that  for  your  son,  heir  of  Hawkwell, 
certain  accomplishments  are  desirable." 

"  Which,"  said  young  Jack,  confidently  and  hastily,  "  I 
have  got.  Tom  Scarlet  says  I'm  the  best  rider  in  the  country 
of  my  age ;  and  as  for  the  keeper,  he  savs  I  can  shoot  too  well 
by  half" 

John  Bullfinch  looked  somewhat  dubious  at  this  last  clause 
of  the  argument,  and  glanced  at  the  light,  double-barrelled 
gun  which  had  been  presented  to  his  son  by  the  Tom  Scarlet 
mentioned.  The  farmer  hemmed,  looked  from  his  son  to  his 
daughter,  and  from  his  daughter  to  his  son. 

"  May,  if  I  find  it  needful  to  take  a  pull  upon  the  lad,  it 
shall  be  done.  He  certainly  has  more  liberty  than  I  had  at 
his  age ;  but  then  I  wasn't  an  only  son.  Besides,  I  trust  hira 
much  to  your  guidance." 

"  And  that,"  said  young  Jack,  readily,  "  is  quite  right,  for 
she  can  guide  me  and  keep  Tom  Scarlet  in  the  line  of  the 
hunt  too." 

"  What  d'ye  mean  by  that  ?"  said  the  father. 

"  Oh,  nothing  in  particular !  Tom  is  this  way  a  good  deal, 
you  know,"  replied  the  boy,  with  a  glance  at  his  sister. 

"I  do  know^  it.  What  then?  What  do  you  think  brings 
him  here  ?     Come,  now  !" 


14  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  I  think,  father,"  said  Young  Jack,  "  that  it's  what  they 
call  instinct,  which  is  the  thing  that  makes  young  ducks 
hatched  by  a  hen  waddle  straight  off  to  the  nearest  water." 

"  Quack  !  quack  !"  said  his  sister,  pinching  his  ear.  "  The 
accomplishments  I  mean  are  such  as  drawing,  mus.ic  and 
dancing." 

"  Music  and  dancing !"  said  Jack  ;  "  why  I  can  play  on  the 
tabor  and  fife  beautiful,  and  outfoot  any  man  in  the  country 
in  a  jig  or  reel.  Charles  King  says  I  ought  to  join  the  morris 
dancers  come  May  day." 

His  sister  laughed,  and  so  did  his  father ;  but  John  then 
said,  with  a  poor  attempt  at  a  frown,  "  Be  silent,  sir !  On 
horseback  Charles  King  is  as  good  a  man  as  ever  sat  in  pig- 
skin ;  but  his  fondness  for  music  and  dancing  lowers  his  dig- 
nity as  the  best  huntsman  in  the  Midlands.  I  told  Earl 
Spencer  so  myself,  the  last  time  I  hunted  with  the  Pytchley 
hounds." 

Just  then  the  clang  of  the  gate  outside,  and  the  iron  tread 
of  a  horse  on  the  frozen  ground,  caused  the  fiirmer  to  rise, 
while  his  son  exclaimed :  "  Here's  Tom  Scarlet  himself,  on 
Danger  I" 


CHAPTER  11. 

THE  MAN  ON  THE  RED  HORSE. 


THE  new  comer,  Tom  Scarlet  of  the  Grange,  a  fine-looking 
young  man,  open  and  frank  in  countenance,  about  twenty- 
four  years  of  age,  rode  a  bright  chestnut  horse  of  great  size 
and  strength,  one  that  to  all  ap^Dcarance  was  very  determined, 
not  to  say  vicious,  in  character.  His  rider  sat  him  with  all 
the  ease  and  confidence  of  a  powerful  and  practised  horse- 
man, while  the  horse  himself  could  hardly  be  said  to  be  ever 
still.  There  was  a  constant  weaving  of  his  head  from  side  to 
side,  and  flecks  of  foam  flew  from  him  when  he  threw  it  up 
as  high  as  the  martingale  would  allows  His  forehead  was 
broad  and  full,  but  his  face  below  it  was  deeply  "  dished,"  and 
he  showed  much  of  the  whites  of  his  eyes.  The  rider  was 
tall,  thin  in  the  flank,  deep-chested,  and  strongly  but  not 
stoutly  built.     A  forehead  broad  and  high,  and  shaded  with 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  15 

dark  chestnut  hair,  rose  over  bright  blue  63^3.  His  complex- 
ion was  florid,  and  his  bushy  whiskers,  of  a  reddish  hue,  were 
such  as  were  then  seldom  worn  by  young  men  of  his  class. 
Mr.  Tom  Scarlet,  however,  sanguine  in  temperament  and 
independent  in  character,  did  not  care  as  much  for  custom 
and  precedent  as  many  other  people  in  that  neighborhood, 
and  his  whiskers  flourished  to  the  discontent  of  some.  His 
family  name  and  appearance  had  led  to  his  being  often  called 
"  Scarlet  and  Gold,''  which  nickname  had  originated  with  a 
damsel  of  gypsy  blood  and  corresponding  habits,  an  orphan, 
belonging  to  a  tribe  which  often  camped  on  the  heaths  and  in 
the  sequestered  lanes  of  that  part  of  the  country.  Her  name 
was  Miriam  Cotswold.  It  was  thought  by  some  of  the  cen- 
sorious that  the  master  of  the  Grange  was  a  little  more  famil- 
iar with  Miriam  and  her  tribe  than  beseemed  the  owner  of  a 
landed  estate  of  small  dimensions  but  great  antiquity.  But 
Mr.  Tom  Scarlet  was  not  the  man  to  care  much  about  what 
the  censorious  and  the  gossips  said. 

John  Bullfinch  was  his  staunch  friend.  Young  Jack  idol- 
ized him.  May  Bullfinch  was  startled  by  discovering,  of  a 
sudden,  how  much  she  liked  him.  Sir  Jerry  Snafiie  often 
consulted  him.  When  Tom  Scarlet's  father,  a  gouty,  choleric 
man,  died — some  years  before  the  opening  of  this  story — his 
eldest  son  John  succeeded  to  the  patrimony.  It  was  an  old 
family  estate,  which  had  once  been  much  larger.  Luckilv, 
John  Scarlet  could  not  encumber  it,  as  it  was  strictly  entailed, 
for  he  was  rather  profuse  in  his  expenditure.  As  the  people, 
more  especially  his  cronies  and  companions,  said,  he  was  a 
liberal,  spirited  young  man,  and  lived  like  one  of  the  old 
Scarlets.  They  might  have  added  that  he  died  like  one  too, 
for  he  broke  his  neck  in  a  steeple-chase,  and  his  brother  Tom, 
then  just  twenty-one  years  of  age,  was  heir  to  the  Grange  and 
the  estate.  It  soon  appeared  that  he  had  also  inherited  the 
bold  family  traits  in  full  measure,  for  immediately  after  his 
brother's  funeral  he  mounted  Danger,  the  horse  that  had 
killed  him,  and  galloped  over  the  five-mile  steeple-chase  course 
9n  which  the  accident  happened.  Since  then  he  had  com- 
monly ridden  the  horse,  and  it  seemed  that  he  had  subdued 
him  so  far  as  his  own  management  and  riding  went,  though 
to  every  one  else  Danger  was  as  uncertain  and  perilous  as 


16  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

before.  The  master  of  the  Grange  kept  two  other  huuters 
besides  Danger.  He  trained  racers  for  hnuters'  plates,  and 
he  was  the  best  gentleman  rider  in  those  parts.  As  such  his 
name  was  great  in  the  mouths  of  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle,  Master  of 
Hounds,  John  Bullfinch  of  Hawkwell,  and  most  other  people 
of  their  way  of  thinking.  Popularity  of  this  sort,  however, 
has  its  drawbacks.  If  Sir  Jerry  and  John  Bullfinch  had 
often  won  money  through  Tom  Scarlet's  skill  and  vigor  in 
the  saddle,  some  other  people  had  lost  it.  So,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  county,  there  were  squires,  parsons  and  farmers 
well-to-do,  who  shook  their  heads  and  declared  that  "  Ne'er  a 
jockey  at  Newmarket,  nor  anywhere  else,  was  up  to  more 
dodges,  or  prepared  to  take  more  advantages,  in  a  cross- 
country race,  than  Tom  Scarlet."  And  then  it  was  pointed 
out  by  some,  among  whom  were  the  leading  attorney  and 
doctor  of  the  neighboring  town,  that  Scarlet  had  no  proper 
sense  of  his  own  place. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  attorney,  "  he  clapped  in  before  Colonel 
Carbine  at  an  ox-fence,  and  that  was  the  reason  the  Colonel 
got  a  cropper." 

"  And  went  over  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tallyho,  horse  and  all,  when 
they  were  in  Otmoor  Brook,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  More  than  that,  sir,"  cried  the  attorney ;  "  the  fellow  actu- 
ally pounded  young  Lord  Doomsday  and  his  thousand-guinea 
mare.  Scarlet  being  upon  Danger,  who  ought  to  have  been 
shot  long  ago,  and  would  have  been  if  the  coroner  had  done 
his  duty." 

"  Hem  [  I  attended  that  case  in  my  professional  capacity — 
the  accident  and  the  inquest,  you  know.  John  Scarlet's  neck 
was  dislocated,  and  he  must  have  died  instanter." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  attorney,  "  if  you  have  to  attend  an- 
other such  case,  caused  by  the  same  horse,  I,  for  one,  shall 
not  go  into  mourning." 

Nor  was  this  all  that  came  to  the  ears  of  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle 
and  John  Bullfinch  in  regard  to  their  young  friend.  Mole- 
skin, head-keeper  to  the  Marquis  of  Wootton,  averred  that 
Tom  Scarlet  killed  more  pheasants  in  a  week  than  could  be 
found  upon  the  Grange  farm  in  a  year ;  besides  which,  he 
was  "  hail  fellow  well  met"  with  half  the  poachers  and  more 
than  half  the  gypsies  in  the  county.    But  for  all  that,  neither 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK.  17 

Sir  Jerry  iior  Joliu  Bullfinch  would  give  up  Tom  Scarlet, 
though  they  sometimes  geutly  ami  affectiouateiy  expostulated 
with  him. 

The  calls  of  the  master  of  the  Grange  at  Hawkwell  had 
become  more  and  more  frequent.  What  had  at  first  been 
"  lookings  in"  upon  the  farmer,  to  chat  over  good  runs,  great 
races,  and  other  sporting  topics,  had  gradually  changed  into 
visits  to  his  daughter.  While  this  was  going  on  John  Bull- 
finch had  become  somewhat  perplexed.  He  liked  Tom  Scarlet; 
even  his  very  faults  secretly  endeared  him  to  honest  John. 
But,  then,  John  had  his  doubts  whether  "  pounding"  Lord 
Doomsday,  riding  over  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tallyho  in  a  brook,  and 
shooting  more  pheasants  than  the  law^  allowed  were  just  the 
gifts  for  a  farmer's  son-in-law.  John  procrastinated.  He  would 
think  it  over.  May  was  a  good  girl,  a  dutiful  girl ;  the  image 
of  her  mother  at  the  same  age.  There  would  be  no  difiiculty 
in  settling  it  all  by-and-by.  He  would  see  Sir  Jerry  about  it, 
and  if  it  should  become  necessary,  would  consult  Lady  Snaffle, 
who  was  May's  godmother,  and  whose  word  in  that  part  of 
the  county  was  never  gainsaid.  So  John  Bullfinch  had  let 
the  matter  lie,  and  meantime  all  the  gossips  in  the  riding  had 
taken  it  up.  Never  had  Tom  Scarlet's  misdoings  taken  such 
color  at  the  tea-tables  of  Ridingcumstoke  as  when  it  was 
bruited  about  that  he  aspired  to  the  hand  of  May  Bullfinch, 
and  that  her  father,  "  careless  and  stupid  man,"  did  not  inter- 
pose to  "  forbid  the  bans,"  as  one  may  say.  The  old  ladies  in 
black  silk  and  lace  caps,  who  had  formerly  applauded  his 
most  desperate  leaps  in  steeple-chases,  and  laughed  over  his 
larks  among  the  gypsies,  now  pronounced  Tom  a  "  bad  'un," 
and  had  "  no  patience"  with  May  herself.  Old  Mrs.  Oxenford, 
a  notable  woman  and  wise,  summed  it  all  up  at  the  conclusion 
of  a  tea-party  by  saying,  "  Tom  Scarlet,  my  dears,  is  just 
about  such  another  as  Danger,  who  broke  his  brother's  neck." 

"  Why,  aunt,"  exclaimed  a  merry  young  lady,  "  I  have  often 
heard  you  say  that  the  wild  colt  makes  the  good  horse." 

"  Well,"  cried  the  old  lady,  "  so  he  does ;  but  he  throws 
a-mauy  in  the  breaking." 

May  Bullfinch  had  given  Tom  Scarlet  her  maiden  love  and 
trust  before  she  knew  it.  Matters  had  gone  further  then  her 
2 


18  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

father  imagined,  though  there  was  as  yet  no  absolute  plight 
of  troth  between  them.  lu  all  probability  Young  Jack  was 
the  only  one  who  knew  how  the  land  lay,  and  saw  that  Cape 
IMatrimony  loomed  large  through  the  mist  in  the  distance. 
Tiie  daring  qualities  which  made  many  people  distrust  and 
fiear  Tom  Scarlet  really  endeared  him  to  May  Bullfinch  the 
more.  To  her  he  was  always  gentle.  An  Indian  maiden  who 
has  tamed  a  tiger  may  exult  over  the  tusks  and  talons  which 
are  not  dangerous  to  his  mistress  but  terrible  to  other  people. 
But  May  never  called  the  young  man  "  Scarlet  and  Gold," 
and  never  met  the  jnercing  look  of  Miriam  Cotswold  without 
some  distrust. 

A  hearty  greeting  passed  between  John  Bullfinch,  Young 
Jack,  and  the  master  of  the  Grange.  The  former,  surveying 
the  chestnut  horse  all  over,  exclaimed  : — 

"  If  I  were  you,  Tom,  I  should  part  with  Danger.  He  is 
more  trouble  than  he  is  worth,  to  say  nothing  of  the  risk,  and 
of  the  memory  of  the  accident  which  befell  poor  John." 

"  It  is  not  so  easy  to  part  with  him  as  you  might  think, 
sir,"  replied  Tom.  "  People  have  a  prejudice  against  him. 
Now,  I  don't  deny  that  Datger  wants  watching,  that  he  rushes 
at  his  leaps,  and  pulls  a  little." 

"  Pulls  a  little !  Why  he'd  almost  pull  a  church  down,  and 
you  know  it." 

"Yes,  sir;  but  I  can  hold  him  for  all  that,  and  a  better 
horse  across  country,  when  fairly  settled  to  his  work,  there  is 
not  in  the  bounds  of  Ridingcumstoke." 

"  Very  well — a  good  horse,  no  doubt — a  very  good  horse. 
But  the  best  I  ever  saw  in  the  hunting  field,  for  a  man  of  my 
weight,  is  Cowslip,  and  here  she  comes." 

As  he  spoke  a  groom  led  up  to  the  porch  a  powerful  bay 
mare,  long  and  low,  with  great  arched  loins,  heavy  quarters, 
and  long,  strong  thighs  and  gaskius,  running  into  big,  bony 
hocks. 

"  Ay,  she's  a  good  one,  she  is,"  said  Tom.  "  A  better  mare 
■was  never  seen  at  the  cover  side.  No  day  too  long,  the  pace 
never  too  strong,  and  when  she  rises  at  a  fence  she  can  lift  a 
ton  and  take  it  clean  over.  Cowslip's  the  mare  of  my  heart ! 
But  I  know  of  a  stallion  of  another  color,  and  may  say  I  have 
got  him,  that  is — nearly  as  good."     He  was  about  to  say  quilt 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  19 

as  good,  but  his  eye  fell  upon  May  Bullfinch,  as  she  came  to 
the  door,  and  he  substituted  "  nearly." 

John  Bullfinch  was  much  pleased.  He  was  very  proud  of 
his  hunting  mare.  It  was  well  known — a  matter  of  boast  in 
and  about  Ridiugcumstoke — that  he  had  several  times  refused 
fabulous  sums  for  her.  Indeed,  after  young  Lord  Doomsday 
was  "  pounded  "  in  a  great  run  by  Tom  Scarlet,  that  youthful 
representative  of  the  hereditary  and  collective  wisdom  of 
England  sent  word  to  John  by  ^ir  Jerry  Snaffle  that  he  could 
name  his  own  figure  for  Cowslip — price  was  no  objection. 

"  I  am  going  to  ride  her  to  the  cattle  fair,  merely  for  exer- 
cise," said  John. 

"  Well,  you  needn't  be  afraid  to  send  her  along  a  little," 
observed  Young  Jack  ;  "  I  have  let  her  go  a  few  smart  canters 
whenever  the  ground  has  been  good,  since  the  long  frost  set 
in,  and  I'll  warrant  her  not  to  blow  at  a  hand  gallop  in  four 
miles." 

John  looked  at  his  hopeful  son  with  symptoms  of  rising 
wrath,  for  his  strong  injunctions  to  him  had  been  never  to  go 
more  than  a  foot  pace  when  exercising  Cowslip.  But  May 
interposed,  and  by  fondling  the  mare,  patting  her  forehead, 
stroking  her  nostrils,  and  kissing  her  clean  lips,  drew  John's 
attention. 

"  She  knows  as  much  as  a  man,"  said  John. 

"  A  precious  sight  more  than  some,  and  has  experience  that 
the  best  man  in  all  England  might  be  proud  of,"  returned  Tom 
Scarlet. 

John  thought  he  meant  experience  in  the  hunting  field,  Vvdiile 
the  Master  of  the  Grange  alluded,  in  fact,  to  the  kisses  and 
fond  caresses  lavished  upon  Cowslip  by  May  Bullfinch.  Young 
Jack,  however,  knew  it  all,  and  made  a  face  at  May  as  his 
father,  Tom  Scarlet,  and  himself  walked  slowly  around  the 
mare,  surveying  her  proportions  from  every  point  of  view,  with 
great  deliberation  and  intense  satisfaction.  It  was  as  though 
they  had  seen  her  then  for  the  first  time,  whereas  all  three  had 
thus  perambulated  round  and  round  her  at  least  a  hundred 
times,  at  different  periods,  and  always  with  the  same  result — 
"  there  never  was  such  a  mare  before  !"  from  all  three  in  chorus. 

"  You  haven't  heard  that  Sir  Jerry  thought  of  swapping 
The  Bagman  for  Danger  perhaps  ?"  said  Tom  Scarlet. 


20  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON, 

"  Did  he  ?     And  you  wouldn't  take  him  ?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  that  I  wouldn't,  for  The  Bagman  is  a 
good  horse — a  very  good  horse,  though  hardly  up  to  the  weight 
of  such  a  man  as  Sir  Jerry." 

"  You  should  have  taken  him  for  Danger,"  said  May,  looking 
at  the  restless  chestnut,  who  had  pawed  and  stamped  a  hole  in 
the  frozen  ground  at  the  foot  of  the  apple  tree  to  which  he  was 
tethered. 

"  I  hadn't  the  chance,"  said  Tom.  "  Lady  Snaffle  broke  up 
the  bargain.  '  Mr.  Tom  Scarlet,'  said  she,  '  I  do  not  want  Sir 
Jerry  Snaffle  brought  home  on  a  hurdle.  Keep  Danger  for 
your  own  use.     You  are  the  best  rough-rider  in  the  country." 

"  And  what  did  you  say  to  that  ?"  cried  Young  Jack. 

"  Say !"  said  his  father,  "  why  nothing,  of  course.  Do  you 
think  Lady  Snaffle  is  to  be  argued  with  like  a  dealer  at  a  fair? 
I'll  pound  it  Tom  said  nothing." 

"  You  are  right,  sir.  I  couldn't  affirm  that  Danger  is  alto- 
gether a  safe  horse,"  replied  Tom  Scarlet.  "  But  I  am  to  have 
The  Bagman  for  a  few  weeks  and  try  him.  A  steeple-chase 
next  winter  is  talked  of,  open  to  all  horses  that  have  been 
hunted  in  the  Midland  counties  this  present  season.  Such  a 
thing  couldn't  well  come  off  without  Sir  Jerry." 

"  It  couldn't  come  off  at  all  without  Sir  Jerry.  Go  on,  Tom, 
and  let  us  hear  all  about  it." 

"  Sir  Jerry  will  put  in  Danger  and  The  Bagman,  if  it  is  a 
sweepstakes,  and  perhaps  another^ 

"  There  will  be  no  need  for  the  other,  and  I  should  be  un- 
willing to  let  her  start  if  there  was,"  said  John  Bullfinch,  with 
his  eye  on  the  mare.  "  Danger  can  beat  any  horse  I  know  of 
that  is  qualified." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  cried  Young  Jack.  "  If  the 
weights  are  light — that  is,  not  up  to  welter  weights " 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  sir !  Let  Tom  be  heard.  One  would 
think  you  knew  more  about  it  than  either  he  or  I." 

"  I  prefer  Danger  to  The  Bagman  at  any  weights,  providing 
the  chestnut  has  the  right  kind  of  a  rider,"  said  Tom.  "  But 
between  us  here,  I  have  as  good  as  got  a  better  horse  for  the 
five-mile  journey  over  our  bullfinches  and  ox-fences  than 
either  of  them." 

"Ah!   then   he   must  be  a   rasper,"  said  John.     "I  must 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  21 


/ 


/ 


mount  and  ride,  Tom.     Jack,  go  as  far  afield  as  the  Long  Hill 
and  look  over  the  wethers.     May,  my  dear,  kiss  me.     You  get    '%!, 
more  like  your  mother  every  day.     You  need  not  sit  up  for    / 
me,  my  dear,  if  I  happen  to  be  a  little  late.     Fury  can  be  let 
loose   before  you  go  to  bed.     Any  message  for  Mrs.  Hick- 
man?" 

"  Yes,  love  to  her  and  Mary,  father.  Tell  them  they  must 
be  at  our  shearing,  and  I  will  send  word  when  the  cuckoo 
comes." 

With  a  friendly  nod  to  Tom  Scarlet,  and  another  kiss  upon 
the  cherry  lips  of  his  daughter,  John  Bullfinch  mounted  Cow- 
slip and  trotted  leisurely  away.  His  children  and  Tom  looked 
at  his  stalwart  retreating  figure  until  it  was  hidden  by  the 
clump  of  blackthorn  bushes  around  the  hawk's  well,  from 
which  the  place  took  its  name  in  old  times. 

"  Dear  father !  he  does  so  love  Cowslip,"  said  May. 

"And  with  good  reason.  There  never  was  such  another 
mare,"  returned  Tom  Scarlet ;  "  she's  as  good  as  Danger,  and 
a  little  safer." 

"Alittlesafer— O,  Tom!" 

"Well,  then,  a  good  deal  safer.  Still,  Danger  is  not  half  as 
bad  as  he  is  made  out  to  be.     He  is  not  really  vicious." 

"O,  no!"  cried  Young  Jack.  "Kind  and  docile,  and  just 
fit  to  carry  a  lady." 

Tom  Scarlet  shook  his  head,  told  Jack  to  saddle  Young 
Cowslip,  a  sister  of  the  famous  mare,  and  that  he  would  ride 
with  him  to  the  Long  Hill.  Dismissing  the  boy  with  a  wave 
of  his  hand,  he  followed  May  into  the  great  kitchen  of  the 
farm-house,  where  the  shepherd  of  the  estate,  old  Will  Dean, 
was  already  taking  his  early  dinner.  The  sturdy  old  man — 
knotted,  gnarled,  gray  as  an  aged  oak,  and  almost  as  vigorous 
— sat  at  a  table  on  one  side  of  the  wide  fireplace,  in  which  two 
or  three  billets  of  wood  blazed.  May  Bullfinch  stood  before 
him,  the  Master  of  the  Grange  by  her  side.  All  around  the 
shelves  were  glittering  with  pewter  dishes.  Flitches  of  bacon, 
great  chin^,  and  large  plump  hams  filled  the  racks  overhead, 
and  hung  upon  spikes  in  the  walls.  The  shepherd  carved  for 
himself  from  a  gammon  of  bacon,  red  as  a  cherry  and  fra- 
grant as  a  pear ;  while  the  daughter  of  the  house  poured  for 
him  good  ale  into  a  shining  horn  from  a  foaming  flagon.    Old 


22  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

Will  was  a  favorite  with  May,  and  he  knew  it.  He  often  told 
her  he  was  shepherd  to  her  grandfather  when  her  father  was 
such  another  stripling  as  Young  Master  Jack,  and  affirmed 
with  many  a  chuckle  that  Young  Jack  charged  him  with 
taking  greater  care  of  her  ewes  than  he  did  of  his. 

"  No  lambs  yet,  Will  ?"  said  May. 

"  No,  Miss,  none  ;  but  there  soon  'ull  be.  As  soon  as  ever 
there  be  two  or  three  couple  I  shall  send  for  'e.  I  have  got  a 
little  hut  built  and  thatched  for  'e  inside  the  fold." 

"  That's  right.  As  soon  as  any  of  my  ewes  have  lambs  I 
shall  be  there  every  day  to  see  them." 

"  And  worth  while,  too,  Miss !  And  well  worth  seeing  they'll 
be,  Mr.  Scarlet,  as  you'll  find  out  in  a  week  or  two.  There 
ain't  no  such  yoes  as  Miss  May's  in  this  county.  I  know  there 
ain't,  and  I  have  been  shepherd  on  this  land  more'n  forty 
year." 

"  Young  Jack's  are  good  ones,"  observed  Tom  Scarlet,  as 
if  in  doubt. 

"  Good  'uns  !  Ay,  for  him.  But  what  do  you  think  I  said 
to  Master  and  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  last  autumn,  'bout  the  time 
of  the  fair?  I  said,  says  I,  '  Be  you  two  gentlemen  a-going  to 
exhibit  any  sheep  at  this  here  society  ?  Because,  if  you  be, 
don't  you  go  and  exhibit  Cotswold  yoes.'  " 

"  Well,  what  then  ?" 

"  Why,  then,  they  says,  *  Why  not  ?'     And  I  says,  says  I, 

*  Because  Miss  May  is  a-going  to  show  a  pen  of  Cotswold  yoes, 
and  she  can  beat  'e  both.'  You  should  have  heard  the  Master 
and  Sir  Jerry  laugh.     O,  how  they  did  laugh  when  I  said, 

*  If  the  decision  is  fair  and  judgmatical,  Miss  May  'ull  beat  'e 
both  clean  out  o'  sight.'  " 

With  that  old  Will  laid  down  his  knife  and  fork,  and  roared 
till  the  rafters  of  the  kitchen  shook  again. 


TEE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  23 


CHAPTER  IIL 

"The  robin  cheeped  a  dolorous  note, 
And  the  corncrake  from  the  lea — 
The  owlet  gave  an  eerie  skreigh 
As  he  leapt  to  the  saddle  tree." 

IT  was  nine  o'clock  on  a  snowy  night,  and  in  the  smoking 
room  of  the  Wheatsheaf  there  were  songs  and  other  sounds 
of  reveh-y.  The  Wheatsheaf  was  a  substantial  inn,  kept  by 
Mrs.  Hickman,  at  Aylesbury — Aylesbury  in  the  Yale,  where 
the  ducks  come  from,  and  where  they  held  the  real,  straight- 
away steeple-chases  of  fifty  years  ago.  The  guests  had  reason 
to  be  content  and  merry.  In  the  bar-parlor  adjacent  Mrs. 
Hickman  sat  in  rustling  black  silk  and  the  fine-thread  lace 
made  by  the  female  peasantry  of  the  neighborhood.  In  the 
bar  itself,  under  her  mother's  eye,  Mary  Hickman  presided. 
It  was  not  like  the  bars  of  London  gin-shops  or  New  York 
hotels,  but  a  snug  little  apartment,  from  which  fine  old  wines 
and  choice  liquors  were  served  to  the  waiter  through  a  little 
window,  and  then  carried  to  the  guests  in  the  bright,  comfort- 
able smoking-room.  The  men  of  corn  and  cattle  who  occu- 
pied the  room  seemed  to  be  loth  to  leave  it.  There  was  a  huge 
sea-coal  fire  in  the  wide  grate.  Stout  forms  lined  the  high 
oaken  settle  which  circled  around  it.  The  steam  of  hot  grog 
mingled  with  the  curling  smoke  from  many  pipes.  The  light 
flashed  on  spurs  and  buckles  as  the  yeomen  stretched  their  legs. 
There  was  laughter  at  passing  jokes,  and  sometimes  hammer- 
ing on  the  tables  with  the  butts  of  hunting  whips.  Some 
think  the  men  of  corn  and  cattle  are  dull,  heavy  fellows,  but 
it  is  a  cockney  heresy.  They  abound  in  jokes  and  dry  humor, 
and  have  a  vast  capacity  for  drink  and  mirth ;  that  is,  they 
had  at  the  time  this  company  held  revel  in  the  Wheatsheaf, 
much  to  the  delight  of  its  head  waiter. 

The  waiter  was  not  a  grave  person  in  the  rusty  black  of  an 
undertaker's  man,  but  a  brisk  and  cheerful  youth  in  drab 
breeches  and  gaiters,  a  green  coat  of  the  Newmarket  cut,  and 
a  bird's-eye  neckerchief,  one  of  the  sort  named  after  the  famous 
Mr.  Jem  Belcher.     In  fact,  when  not  otherwise  engaged,  the 


24  THE  WUITE  HORSE  OF   WOOTTOK 

waiter  sometimes  put  on  the  gloves  with  those  of  the  Wheat- 
sheaf's  customers  who  belonged  to  the  young  aristocracy,  and 
it  was  whisj)ered  that  no  less  a  man  than  Jack  Perkins,  the 
Oxford  Pet,  had  offered  to  bring  him  out  before  the  public  in 
that  arena  which  was  called  the  ring,  mainly  because  it  was 
twenty-four  feet  square.  On  this  snowy  evening  the  waiter 
was  in  high  glee.  He  left  no  man  unserved.  He  laughed  at 
every  joke,  applauded  every  song,  and  was  especially  attentive 
to  the  comfort  and  convenience  of  Mr.  John  Bullfinch  of 
Hawkwell.  Outside  the  snow  fell  fast  and  it  had  begun  to 
blow.  But  John  Bullfinch,  with  pipe  and  brandy  and  water, 
and  jovial  companions,  was  as  independent  as  Tarn  O'Shanter. 
The  minutes  flew.  Stories  were  told  of  hard  runs  and  great 
leaps  in  the  hunting  field.  There  were  histories  of  fat  beasts 
and  heavy  crops,  mingled  with  anecdotes  of  prize-fighters,  and 
eloquent  tributes  to  the  bravery  and  prowess  of  certain  breeds 
of  game-cocks  and  bull  and  badger  dogs.  John  Bullfinch  was 
a  sort  of  chairman  to  the  company.  The  narrators  of  the 
stories  addressed  themselves  chiefly  to  him.  The  glasses  were 
often  filled,  and  every  time  the  jocund  waiter  carried  that  of 
Mr.  Bullfinch  to  the  bar  he  said  cheerily  to  his  young  mistress, 
"  Brandy  and  water  for  Mr.  Bullfinch,  just  like  the  last." 

The  night  waxed  on.  One  after  another  of  the  company 
departed.  Many  had  to  ride  far  before  they  got  home,  and 
others  had  wives  to  explain  to  when  they  reached  there.  So, 
at  last,  except  one  or  two  townsmen,  there  remained  only  John 
Bullfinch  and  a  dark,  lean,  sinewy  man,  who  sat  at  his  right 
hand,  and  answered  to  the  name  of  Jack.  This  man  wore 
cord  breeches,  a  velveteen  coat,  somewhat  old  and  weather- 
beaten,  with  leather  leggings  and  rusty  spurs.  His  look  was 
wary,  yet  daring ;  his  eye  was  dark,  very  bright,  and  very 
restless ;  and  his  long  black  hair  fell  over  the  nape  of  his  neck. 
Mr.  Bullfinch  and  the  gypsy — the  man  was  a  sort  of  horse- 
dealer  belonging  to  the  tribes,  and  named  Cotswold,  though 
seldom  called  anything  but  Jack  or  Gypsy  Jack — were  on  very 
good  terms.  The  latter  was  something  of  a  pugilist  as  well 
as  a  dealer  in  horses,  and  the  farmer  now  told  him  some  anec- 
dotes of  Jem  Belcher  and  Cribb,  both  of  whom  he  had  seen 
fight.     Perhaps  the  gypsy  had  heard  the  stories  before,  for  he 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  25 

did  not  appear  to  be  especially  interested,  though  he  listened 
with  deference. 

"  A  wildish  night,  Mr.  Bullfinch,"  said  the  ostler,  as  he 
came  into  the  room  and  kicked  the  snow  from  his  shoes  at  the 
grate. 

"  I've  ridden  home  on  Cowslip  in  a  worse,  but  we  may  as 
w^ell  start,"  said  the  farmer.  "  Saddle  the  mare  and  bring  her 
round.  I'll  say  good-night  to  Mrs.  Hickman,  Jack,  and  then 
we  will  go." 

"  So  you're  going,  Mr.  Bullfinch,"  said  the  comely  landlady, 
rising.     "  You  will  have  a  rough  ride  of  it  through  the  dark." 

"  The  mare  knows  the  road.  Besides,  I  shall  have  company 
to  the  tarn  of  the  Woottou  lands.  Gypsy  Jack  is  going  so 
far." 

"Queer  company  on  such  a  night.  You  might  as  well  be 
alone — perhaps  better." 

"Not  at  all,  ma'am.  Jack  is  a  trustworthy  fellow,  and  a 
deep  hand.  Between  you  and  I,  ma'am,  very  few  understand 
Jack  except  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle,  Tom  Scarlet  and  myself." 

"  And  how  is  Tom  ?"  said  the  landlady. 

"  AVell — very  well !  He  was  at  my  house  this  morning  on 
Danger.'* 

"  I  w^onder  he  rides  that  horse,  considering  what  happened." 

"  Now  that  reminds  me  that  the  last  time  I  rode  from  here 
my  horse  shied  abreast  of  the  fence  where  John  Scarlet  w^as 
killed,  and  I  was  nearly  thrown,"  said  the  farmer. 

"  You  must  be  careful,  Mr.  Bullfinch  ;  think  of  May.  But 
it  wasn't  Cowslip  ?" 

"  Cowslip  never  shies,  ma'am,"  replied  John,  with  much 
gravity.  "You  may  meditate  upon  her  just  as  you  may  in 
your  pew  when  the  rector  is  in  for  a  long,  slow  run,  by  way 
of  sermon.  Thank  you,  my  dear"  (this  to  Mary  Hickman,  as 
she  handed  him  another  glass),  "  I  go  over  many  things  besides 
brooks  and  fences  on  Cowslip,  ma'am.  The  back  of  a  good 
horse,  going  home  from  feast,  fair  or  market,  is  the  best  place 
for  reflection  and  meditation  that  I  know  of.  The  action  of 
the  horse  settles  the  thoughts  ;  and  the  pace  being  good,  sobers 
— that  is,  steadies — a  man.  Mrs.  Hickman,  your  health,  and 
Mary,  yours,  my  dear.  You  are  like  my  daughter.  May — 
getting  prettier  every  day." 


26  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

The  damsel  of  the  Wheatsheaf  glanced  iuto  the  pier-glass 
over  the  fireplace  with  a  smile  aud  mautliiig  blush,  aud  then 
tripped  into  the  little  bar.  There  she  stood,  fair  to  look  upon, 
in  the  midst  of  glittering  crystal  aud  burnished  silver,  from 
which  her  face  was  reflected  on  every  hand.  It  glowed  in  the 
old  wines,  and  where  the  potent  spirit  of  Cognac  lay,  like  a  tiger 
in  his  den,  it  shone  in  the  ruby  flame.  It  was  an  innocent 
little  face !  seen  "  through  a  glass  darkly,"  in  the  lair  of  the 
turbulent  essence,  which  held  fixed  the  sunshine  of  a  year. 
John  Bullfinch  stirred  his  grog  and  sipped,  and  stirred  again, 
and  as  the  spoon  tinkled  in  the  glass,  he  thought  of  wedding 
bells,  Mary  Hickman  as  a  bridesmaid,  his  daughter  May  and 
Tom  Scarlet.  The  action  of  the  horse  was  just  about  wanted 
to  "  settle  the  thoughts,  and  the  pace  being  good,  to  steady 
the  man."     John  drank  up. 

"  You  are  to  come  and  stay  two  or  three  days  at  sheep-shear- 
ing time ;  but  before  that  you  are  to  drive  over  and  spend  the 
day  among  the  violets  and  primroses,  when  the  cuckoo  comes. 
That's  May's  message,  with  her  best  love." 

"  Thanks  !  thanks !  Our  love  to  her,"  said  the  landlady  and 
her  daughter. 

"May  will  let  you  know  when  he's  heard  on  the  long  hill. 
The  cuckoo,  in  these  parts,  is  first  heard  on  our  long  hill.  It 
was  so  in  my  father's  time  and  in  my  grandfather's.  It  is  so 
in  mine,  and  so  it  will  be  in  my  son  Jack's,  aud  in  that  of 
those  who  come  after  him.  The  philosophy  of  the  matter  is 
that  the  cuckoo's  guided  by  instinct,  which,  as  Jack  observed 
this  morning,  makes  young  ducks  hatched  out  by  a  hen  toddle 
off  to  the  nearest  water.  Mrs.  Hickman,  good-night.  Mary, 
my  dear,  good-night.  Not  a  step  out  of  the  parlor.  '  Good- 
by,  sweethearts,  good-by  !'  " 

"  Good-night !  good-night !"  exclaimed  the  ladies ;  and  then 
INIrs.  Hickman  added :  "  Of  all  the  graziers,  dealers,  farmers, 
and  hunting  men  that  visit  Aylesbury  in  the  Vale,  John 
Bullfinch  is  the  noblest  man — a  perfect  gentleman  !" 

"  Good-night  again  !"  as  John  Bullfinch  dropped  a  shilling 
into  the  ostler's  hand. 

"And  a  real  good-uight  to  you,  sir,"  in  which  the  waiter 
joined  as  the  huntiug  mare  struck  iuto  a  canter,  aud  the  gypsy 
followed  on  his  vixenish-looking  nag. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  27 

Through  the  diraly-lightcd  town,  and  by  the  muffled, 
drowsy-looking  watchmen,  crawling  like  beetles  under  the 
eaves  and  gables  of  quaint  old  houses,  the  horsemen  rode. 
Then  leaving  the  baying  of  the  watch-dogs  behind  them,  they 
wound  down  the  hill  towards  the  north  and  west  and  into  the 
rich  vale  below.  It  was  about  the  last  of  a  long  and  hard 
winter — a  time  when  the  old  tyrant  seemed  to  see,  with  rage, 
that  men  were  getting  ready  to  welcome  joyous  spring,  and  so 
determined  to  make  the  close  of  his  iron  sway  felt  while  he 
had  yet  time.  The  wind  blew  keenly,  and  with  it  drifted  a 
powdery  snow.  The  sky  was  cloudy,  but  behind  the  pack 
there  seemed  to  be  a  fitful  sort  of  light,  which  now  and  again 
shone  through.  It  couldn't  be  the  moon,  for  there  was  no 
moon  that  night  till  later,  and  it  shone  mainly  in  the  northern 
board  of  the  clouded  heavens.  Commonly  the  horsemen  could 
see  dimly  nothing  but  fields  of  snow  and  straggling  hedges, 
and  then  again  it  would  lighten  up  with  a  pale  glare,  and  the 
cattle  and  sheep  suddenly  took  shape  and  form  for  a  moment. 
It  was  not  a  flickering  light,  but  steady  enough  while  visible, 
though  coming  and  going  like  that  thrown  from  a  dark  lan- 
tern. It  was  a  light  of  which  John  Bullfinch  did  not  much 
approve.  Cats,  bats  and  owls  might  fancy  it,  he  observed,  but 
for  his  part  he  would  rather  have  good,  black,  honest  dark- 
ness. 

"Aye,"  said  the  gypsy,  drawing  nearer  to  the  farmer,  "this 
here  light  that  comes  just  enough  to  make  us  blink  and  get 
blinder,  'ud  suit  churchyards,  ghosts,  grave-diggers  and  resur- 
rection men  better  nor  horsemen  on  the  King's  highway." 

John  Bullfinch  did  not  like  the  suggestion.  He  repeated 
that  good,  natural  darkness  would  be  preferable,  but  thought 
the  less  said  about  ghosts  and  graves  at  such  a  time  the  better. 

"  The  light,"  said  he,  "  is  just  such  as  twenty  *  Jack-o'-Lan- 
terns'  and  twenty '  Will-o'-the- Wisps'  might  be  expected  to  show 
through  the  mingled  mist  and  snow  of  a  winter's  night." 

With  that  he  gave  Cowslip  the  rein,  and  nothing  loth  she 
dashed  along  at  a  better  pace,  one  which  made  the  gypsy's 
nag  gallop  to  keep  up  with  her.  Over  the  snow  the  horses 
and  their  riders  went,  mostly  silent,  always  resolute,  and  still 
the  long  easy  canter  of  the  hunting  mare  kept  the  gypsy's  nag 
at  a  gallop.     They  met  the  up  night  mail  coach.     They  ex- 


28  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

changed  "  Good-night,"  the  universal  benison,  with  the  coach- 
man and  the  guard  in  passing.  And  at  last  they  reached  the 
turn  of  the  lands,  not  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  Woods  of 
Wootton.  Here  the  gypsy  said  to  his  companion,  "  Good-night," 
and  turning  to  the  right,  rode  down  into  the  shadow  of  a  green 
lane,  now  white  with  snow,  between  tall  hedges. 

As  the  gypsy  was  about  to  leave  him,  John  Bullfinch  pulled 
the  hunting-mare  to  a  shacking  trot  and  began  to  cogitate. 
The  question  was,  whether  he  should  ride  home  by  the  road, 
or  through  the  deejD  woods  and  great  preserves  of  the  IMarquis 
of  Wootton.  The  woods  were  seldom  traversed  at  night  except 
by  poachers  and  their  enemies,  the  keepers  and  watchers. 
John,  however,  was  on  the  most  intimate  terms  with  the  head 
keeper,  and  was  conceded  the  right  of  way  whenever  he  chose 
to  take  it.  The  road,  argued  he,  to  himself,  is  further  round 
and  quite  as  lonely  as  the  woods.  It  might  be  lighter,  but  he 
didn't  want  any  more  of  the  sort  of  light  he  had  experienced 
upon  it  thus  far.  Besides,  he  remembered  that  he  had  busi- 
nesss  with  the  keeper,  and  should  really  be  at  home  all  the 
sooner  for  going  through  the  woods  and  calling  upon  him.  At 
the  first  gate  he  turned  from  the  highway  into  one  of  the  rides, 
between  old  oaks  and  thick  underwood.  It  was  not  the  first 
time  by  many,  that  John  Bullfinch  had  ridden  through  these 
woods  at  night  to  call  upon  Moleskin.  The  keeper  was  a 
crony  of  his,  and  though  they  often  disputed,  they  were  at  the 
bottom,  staunch  friends.  John  Bullfinch  considered  vulcipede 
a  crime  very  nearly  as  heinous  as  murder,  except  when  the 
death  of  the  fox  was  brought  about  in  the  orthodox  manner 
by  a  pack  of  hounds.  Moleskin,  on  the  other  hand,  had  been 
suspected  of  shooting  vixens  and  trapping  cubs  about  the  time 
the  young  pheasants  were  half  grown.  John  had  a  sort  of 
weak  sympathy  for  poachers.  Moleskin  proclaimed  with  some 
ostentation,  that  he  would  shoot  every  known  poacher  he  found 
in  the  preserves,  out  of  hand,  if  it  were  not  for  the  law.  John 
denounced  man-traps  and  spring-guns.  Moleskin  pretended 
that  he  had  them  set  at  all  convenient  places,  and  afifected  to 
look  upon  their  inventor  as  a  greater  man  than  he  who  pro- 
duced the  steam-engine.  Their  arguments  were  animated  and 
long  ;  and  neither  ever  succeeded  in  convincing  the  other  that 
he  was  in  the  wrong.    This,  however,  was  nothing  against  their 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  29 

reasoning,  for  each  was  a  man  of  obstinacy,  and  neither  was 
inclined  to  give  in  upon  compulsion.  Moleskin  was  a  bach- 
elor. He  had  many  tastes  in  common  with  the  old  hunters 
and  backwoodsmen  of  our  Western  frontier.  He  lived  alone 
in  a  sylvan  lodge,  deep  in  the  great,  solemn  woods,  some  of 
whose  oaks  may  have  been  as  old  as  the  era  of  the  Norman 
Conquest.  Sleeping  much  in  the  daytime,  he  was  as  alert,  as 
watchful  and  as  wary  as  an  old  dog  fox  by  night.  Like  the  sor- 
cerer of  old  who  entertained  a  familiar  in  a  black  bottle. 
Moleskin  kept  by  him  the  spirit  of  old  Cognac,  and  John 
Bullfinch  knew  it. 

Silently  and  slowly  the  hunting-mare  cantered  over  the  soft 
carpet  of  snow  that  lay  between  the  overhanging  boughs  of 
the  great  trees  and  the  thick  belts  of  bushes,  until  her  eyes 
and  those  of  her  rider  became  used  to  the  dim  darkness  of  the 
woods.  The  ride  was  some  thirty  feet  wide,  and  smooth  as  a 
bowling  green,  though  with  slopes  and  hi^Js  here  and  there. 
The  snow  hung  heavy  on  the  boughs  and  bushes,  and  still  fell 
fast.  The  wind  had  veered  to  the  westward,  and  the  fall  was 
now  in  thick,  damp  flakes.  Sometimes  John  Bullfinch  thought 
it  had  ceased,  but  whenever  he  threw  back  his  broad-brimmed 
hat  he  found,  by  the  spats  in  his  face,  that  it  was  still  falling. 
There  was  no  wind  in  the  ride,  but  now  and  then  it  swept 
through  the  vistas  of  the  great  trees  with  a  melancholy  sough, 
like  a  wail  for  evil  things  foreknown.  Once  in  a  while  the 
yelp  of  the  fox  was  heard,  and  the  doleful  screech  of  the  owl 
broke  the  silence  of  the  night.  Then  all  was  still  again.  The 
wood  pigeons  were  silent,  and  the  crows  made  no  motion  on  the 
boughs.  But  there  were  murmurings  deep  in  the  thickets,  as 
though  the  trees  had  tongues,  voices  of  the  ancient  wood  gods, 
heard  ere  old  Pan  was  dead.  A  strange  glimmer  now  came 
glinting  down  from  the  cloudy  sky  and  up  from  the  smooth 
snow,  and  lost  itself  in  the  shade  of  the  tall  trees  and  bushes. 
The  oaks  were  often  overgrown  with  ivy,  and  so  were  thick 
with  foliage  not  their  own.  As  his  eyes  got  accustomed  to  this 
sort  of  weird  gloaming,  the  farmer  pricked  more  speedily  along 
towards  the  hermitage  where  the  stout  keeper,  after  the  man- 
ner of  the  Clerk  of  Copmanhurst,  kept  flagon  and  crust.  Yet 
into  the  dark,  beyond  the  space  of  his  narrow  ken,  John  Bull- 
finch now  was  ever  peering.     The  hunting-mare,  too,  swerved 


30  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

always  to  the  right,  and  pulled  upon  the  near  rein.  John 
Bulliinch  soon  began  to  think  that  he  had  some  sort  of  com- 
pany in  his  midnight  canter.  More  and  more  the  notion  grew 
upon  him,  until  he  was  pretty  nearly  convinced  that  close  to 
the  bushes,  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  ride,  there  was  some- 
thing moving  abreast  of  him.  He  rubbed  his  eyes  and  looked 
steadily ;  he  drew  the  collar  of  his  coat  down  from  his  ears 
and  listened  intently.  Then  he  sj)oke  to  the  mare.  Cowslip 
quickened  the  stroke,  but  edged  over  to  the  right-hand  side  so 
far  that  the  farmer's  boot  brushed  against  the  bushes.  John 
Bullfinch  was  not  a  man  to  linger  long  in  doubt  when  action 
of  his  own  could  clear  up  an  uncertainty.  He  touched  Cow- 
slip with  the  spur,  gave  her  a  cut  with  the  whip  down  the 
shoulder,  and  pulled  her  suddenly  across  the  ride  to  intercept 
that  which  seeemed  to  be  abreast  of  him.  With  a  long  leap 
like  that  with  which  she  took  a  brook  in  stride,  the  hunting- 
mare  bounded  to  the  left  side  of  the  ride,  but  though  she 
touched  the  bushes  just  where  the  shape  which  had  perplexed 
her  master  ought  to  have  been,  it  eluded  her,  as  though  it 
were  a  thing  without  corporeal  substance  to  its  form.  This 
was  passing  strange.  John  Bullfinch  pulled  Cowslip  into  the 
midclle  of  the  ride  and  gave  her  her  head.  Fast  now  she  went, 
faster  and  faster  still,  as  she  felt  the  close  clip  of  the  farmer's 
knees,  and  his  delicate  pull  upon  the  snafile  bridle,  but  he 
soon  found  that  the  form  he  had  been  aware  of  rather  than 
seen  before  was  at  her  girths  again,  in  the  deep  shadow.  He 
looked  over  his  left  shoulder  at  the  shape  which  was  nearly 
shapeless  and  so  swift,  and  knew  not  what  to  make  of  the  mat- 
ter. Again  and  suddenly  he  gave  the  mare  a  touch  with  the 
spur,  and  made  her  dash  across  to  the  left,  so  that  he  thought 
he  could  not  fail  to  bring  about  a  collision.  But  none  came. 
He  saw  the  glint  of  a  fiery  eye,  and  then,  like  a  rack  of  cloud 
and  mist  in  a  driving  storm,  the  thing  swept  by  the  mare's 
haunches  and  was  gone.  John  Bullfinch  was  not  a  supersti- 
tious man.  He  knew  no  reason  why  a  goblin  shape,  from  the 
confines  of  the  other  world,  should  have  power  to  vex  and 
worry  him.  He  was  a  true  though  unworthy  son  of  the 
Church,  paid  his  tithes  without  grumbling,  was  at  the  Com- 
munion-table at  Easter,  grace  was  always  said  at  his  board, 
through  May  he  gave  much  in  alms  to  the  poor,  and  he  was 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  31 

upon  good  terms  with  the  rector  and  the  curate.  All  this 
passed  through  his  mind — but  there  was  the  shape  agaiu,  and 
neither  rector,  curate,  nor  clerk  at  hand  to  exorcise  it.  John 
Bullfinch  was  a  brave  man,  but  now  a  chill  went  through  him 
as  though  an  ice-tipped  arrow  from  the  grim  hand  of  Death 
himself  had  struck  his  heart  and  frozen  up  its  fountain.  The 
good  mare,  too,  trembled  between  his  knees,  and  John  took 
this  as  an  evil  omen.     What  might  it  mean  ? 

The  farmer  considered,  and  was  sore  distressed  to  find  that 
he  had  forgotten,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  the  order  of  the 
sublime  sentences  which  constitutes  the  prayer  of  our  Lord. 
There  came  upon  his  ear  the  sound  of  a  church  bell  which  he 
knew.  Every  night  in  winter  it  was  rung  at  the  same  hour 
for  thirty  minutes,  by  provision  of  a  dead  man's  will.  In  times 
long  gone  by,  when  that  part  of  the  country  was  mostly  mire 
and  wood  and  water,  the  haunt  of  wild  fowl,  birds  of  game, 
and  beasts  of  chase,  one  lost  in  a  wild  night  and  in  much  dis- 
tress, had  regained  his  road  through  hearing  the  passing  bell 
as  it  was  tolled  for  some  poor  soul  that  had  gone  from  the 
flesh.  For  the  rest  of  his  life,  the  man  had  it  rung  at  the  same 
hour,  and  when  he  died  in  due  course  of  nature,  not  starved 
in  the  wild,  buried  in  the  snow,  or  smothered  in  the  fen,  he  left 
property  to  pay  for  the  continuance  of  the  nightly  ringing  for 
all  time  to  come.  Strange  to  say,  the  sound  of  the  bell,  coming 
faintly  and  dreamily  through  the  trees,  brought  small  relief  to 
the  mind  of  honest  John  Bullfinch.  He  might  not  have  heard 
that  goblins  damned  and  spirits  evil  can  no  more  abide  the 
sound  of  bell  from  gray  church  tower  than  they  can  stand  the 
cheerful  crowing  of  the  early  village  cock.  Something  of  the 
virtues  of  a  horse-shoe  as  a  talisman  occurred  to  him. 

"  But,"  said  he,  "  the  mare  can't  have  cast  off'  all  four  of 
hers,  and  it's  no  good  for  this  gear." 

The  eflicacy  of  witch  elm  and  witch  hazel  for  the  counter- 
action of  ungodly  spells,  and  to  curb  the  cantrips  of  the  servants 
of  the  evil  one,  was  well  known  to  him.  But  it  was  too  dark 
to  find  a  wand  of  either,  although  plenty  grew  thereabout. 
And  besides,  John  would  have  been  in  no  hurry  to  dismount 
if  he  could  have  found  what  he  wanted.  Kocked  in  the  cradle 
of  the  saddle  almost  from  infancy,  the  back  of  his  horse  was 
his  place  of  vantage,  the  mare  his  tower  of  strength,  and  if  he 
was  to  contend  with  things  of  diabolical  origin  he  would  meet 


32  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

them  on  her  back.  He  thought,  for  just  a  moment,  whether 
it  would  not  be  better  to  gallop  back  to  the  turnpike  road, 
but  scorning  to  retreat  for  ghost  or  goblin,  he  clucked  to  Cow- 
slip and  rode  forward.  As  if  in  response  to  this  resolute  pluck, 
the  moonlight  now  broke  faintly  through  the  flying  scud 
above,  and  things  became  more  distinct.  Away  went  the  good 
bay  mare  over  the  snow,  while  the  night  wind  moaned  among 
the  tree  tops.  With  the  fumes  of  brandy  dying  in  him,  and 
the  disordered  thoughts  and  feelings  that,  swift  as  dreams, 
rushed  through  him,  John's  brain  was  a  little  confused.  The 
great  stride  of  the  mare  bore  him  rapidly  along,  and  as  he 
neared  his  destination  he  was  about  to  devote  to  the  Ked  Sea 
— whether  the  one  of  water  or  that  whose  billows  are  of  rolling 
fire — all  ghosts,  goblins,  and  demons  of  the  dark.  But  just 
then  the  owl  shrieked,  "  the  fatal  bellman  which  gives  the 
stern'st  good-night."  The  moon,  like  a  good  ship  scudding  in 
storm  and  mist,  sailed  into  the  narrow  strait  between  two  dark 
promontories  of  cloud,  and  revealed  the  appearance  again.  It 
took  shape  and  form — a  phantom  horse  of  great  size  and  power ; 
white  as  the  monumental  tablets  in  the  chancel  of  the  church 
John  knew  so  well — one  erected  to  the  memory  of  John  Scarlet, 
another  over  the  resting-place  of  a  man  done  to  death  upon 
the  highway.  One  flash  from  fiery  eyes !  one  glare  from 
glowing  nostrils !  the  white  mane  waved  in  the  wind,  and  the 
apparition  vanished  as  the  moon  sailed  behind  the  dark  clouds 
again. 

The  farmer  was  aghast.  He  liked  not  the  form  of  the 
apparition,  and  he  was  half  inclined  to  say,  "  Take  any  shape 
but  that !"  He  did  say,  "  I  have  been  charged  with  thinking 
more  of  horses  than  of  my  IMaker,  but  that  was  all  a  lie,  and 
if  this  is  a  visitation,  it  must  be  meant  in  mercy,  not  in  wrath." 
He  tried  to  remember  whether  any  farmer,  drover,  or  gentle- 
man who  rode  a  white  horse  had  ever  been  murdered  in  the 
woods,  but  he  could  think  of  none.  There  came  prancing  into 
his  mind  the  figure  of  a  white  horse  on  the  sign-board  of  an 
inn  that  he  sometimes  frequented  ;  and  then  he  thought  of  that 
pale  steed  who  carries  the  fleshless  King,  with  his  all-slaying 
dart. 

"  If  it's  that  white  horse,  he  wasn't  on  him,  which  is  a  con- 
solation," said  John,  as  he  touched  Cowslip  with  the  spur,  and 
she  sped  away. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  3'3 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"But,  Roman,  when  thou  standest 

Upon  that  holj  ground, 
Look  thou  with  heed  upon  the  rock 

That  girds  "the  dark  lake  round; 
So  shalt  thou  see  a  hoof-mark 

Stamped  deep  into  the  flint — 
It  was  no  hoof  of  mortal  steed 

That  made  so  strange  a  dint." 

F'  may  be  doubted  whether  the  hunting-mare  ever  went 
faster  in  her  life  than  she  did  in  the  short  space  between 
the  place  where  her  master  saw  the  neck  and  shoulders  of  the 
White  Horse  and  the  keeper's  lodge.  If  the  phantom  and 
she  had  been  running  a  neck-and-neck  race  for  a  horseman's 
soul,  the  one  jockeyed  by  ApoUyon  and  the  other  by  an  angel 
of  light,  she  could  scarcely  have  finished  the  heat  with  a  more 
determined  "  rush  on  the  post."  John  Bullfinch  threw  him- 
self from  the  saddle  with  a  loud  halloo,  and  looked  around. 
There  was  no  white  horse  to  be  seen  ;  nothing  but  the  good 
bay  mare,  in  a  lather  on  the  neck  and  in  the  flanks.  Calling 
to  Moleskin,  who  came  out  with  a  lantern,  to  bring  him  a 
blanket,  the  farmer  led  Cowslip  under  a  sheltered  shed  and 
slackened  her  girths.  He  then  wrapped  her  up,  sponged  her 
eyes  and  her  muzzle,  breathed  into  her  wide  nostrils  three 
times,  and,  taking  the  keeper  by  the  upper  part  of  his  sinewy 
arm,  led  him  into  the  lodge  without  a  word.  The  keeper's 
sitting-room  was  fitted  and  furnished  suitable  to  his  calling. 
Guns  in  racks,  shot-belts  and  powder-flasks  upon  the  walls,  a 
white  hare  stuffed  upon  the  mantel-piece,  an  old  pointer  lay 
before  the  fire,  a  cross-bred  dog  of  the  bull  and  pointer  sat 
upon  the  hearth,  and  a  tan-colored  mastiff*  of  great  size  and 
strength,  was  chained  near  the  case  of  the  old  eight-day  clock. 
The  keeper  was  a  tall  man,  thin,  but  very  muscular  and 
sinewy,  with  a  deep-gray  eye  and  a  grave,  cast-iron  sort  of 
face — a  watchful,  wary,  bold  and  determined-lookiug  man. 
He  had,  perhaps,  been  taking  a  little  brandy  and  water,  for 
a  black  bottle  and  tumbler  were  upon  the  table,  with  a  pipe 
and  tobacco  in  a  canister  of  lead.  Contrary  to  his  usual  cus- 
3 


34  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

torn,  which  was  to  avoid  the  driDkir.g  of  spirits  neat,  John 
Bullfinch  poured  out  a  dram  of  brandy,  and  drank  it  without 
any  reference  to  Moleskin's  health. 

"  Dick,"  said  he,  "  bring  another  pipe." 

The  keeper  did  so.  John  Bullfinch  filled  it,  lit  it,  took  a 
seat,  motioned  ^loleskin  to  another,  and  then  said  : 

"What  do  you  think  I  met  to-night — this  blessed  night 
that  still  hang.s  over  us  ?" 

"  How  should  I  know  ?  A  couple  of  footpads,  maybe.  I 
have  often  said  you  carry  too  many  notes  and  too  much  gold. 
The  temptation  to  footpads,  and,  in  a  measure,  to  poachers, 
shculd  be  avoided." 

"  Footpads  be  hanged  !" 

"It's  only  transportation  now,  unless  there  is  murder  as 
well  as  robbery ;  and  you  are  alive,  I  think,"  said  the  keeper. 

"Don't  you  be  a  fo.ol.  It  wasn't  footpads — I  could 'have 
dealt  with  them — but  something  much  more  serious,"  said  the 
farmer. 

"  What !  do  you  mean  to  say  that  there  are  poachers  abroad? 
Have  you  seen  or  heard  anything  of  poachers  in  this  domain  ? 
Because,  if  you  have.  Tiger  and  I  must  be  stirring." 

The  keeper  laid  his  baud  upon  his  gun  as  he  spoke.  The 
half-bred  bull-dog  rose  and  suifled  the  air.  The  big  mastiff 
looked  at  his  master  with  sullen,  bloodshot  eyes,  and  shook 
his  chain.  John  Bullfinch  had  let  his  pipe  go  out.  He  now 
lighted  it  again,  and  after  a  couple  of  whififs,  said : 

"  Moleskin,  do-  you  believe  in  ghosts — ghosts  and  goblins — 
what  you  may  call  apparitions  ?" 

"Do  I  believe  in  ghosts?  and  in  goblins  and  apparitions? 
Well,  not  in  this  domain — not  in  these  woods  and  preserves. 
No  ghost  with  a  grain  of  sense  would  pick  this  for  his  tramp- 
in";  frround ;  for  here,  you  see,  he  would  meet  with  mastiffs, 
bull-dogs,  double-barrelled  guns,  and  so  on,  to  say  nothmg  of 
man-traps  and  spring-guns,  which  are  set  at  certain  conve- 
nient places  on  these  premises." 

"  That's  neither  here  nor  there,  sir.  I  ask,  do  you  believe 
in  such  things  in  a  general  way  ?" 

"  In  a  general  way  I  do  not ;  but  there  may  be  such  things 
in  the  proper  places,"  replied  the  keeper. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  35 

"  What  do  you  call  proper  places  for  such  appearances  ?  Is 
this  a  proper  place  ?"  said  Mr.  Bullfinch. 

"  No,  sir ;  it  is  a  very  improper  place,"  replied  the  keeper. 
"  To  my  mind  the  proper  places  are  churchyards,  old,  solitary 
houses,  in  which  misers  have  died  of  starvation  among  heaps 
of  hoarded  gold  ;  lone  places  where  midnight  murder  has  been 
done  and  the  perpetrators  have  gone  unhung ;  the  foot  of  gib- 
bets on  heaths  and  moors  where  you  hear  the  croak  of  the 
raven  by  day  and  the  hoot  of  the  owl  at  night.  These  are  the 
situations  for  ghosts  and  goblins.  I  have  no  belief  of  any  in 
these  w^oods." 

"  Then  I  have,  for  I  have  just  seen  one,"  said  Mr.  Bullfinch 
in  his  most  resolute  manner. 

The  keeper  saw  that  downwright  contradiction  would  be  of 
little  service,  but  he  shook  his  head  as  the  farmer  continued  in 
a  tone  serious  enough  to  command  attention,  if  not  partial  be- 
lief 

"  Look  here,  Dick !  We  are  old  friends.  You  have  known 
me,  man  and  bof ,  for  many  a  year.  Now,  something  very 
strange  has  happened  since  I  turned  into  the  woods  to-night. 
Something  followed  me,  or  rather  kept  abreast  of  me  from  the 
gate  of  the  ride  until  I  drew  bridle  at  this  lodge.  Twice  it 
was  close  to  me.  Once  when  the  moon  broke  through  the 
drifts  of  clouds,  I  saw  it  quite  plain,  and  perceived  that  it  was 
as  white  as  the  snow  itself" 

"  A  fellow  in  a  white  smock-frock,  with  a  pocket  full  of 
snares,  and  a  short  double-barrelled  gun,  the  stock  and  barrels 
separated  for  convenience  and  concealment,"  said  the  keeper. 
"  You  ought  to  have  seen  the  lurcher,  too,  for  I'll  pound  it  there 
was  one.  A  mittimus  to  the  governor  of  Aylesbury  jail,  or 
Oxford  castle,  lays  ghosts  of  that  sort  for  a  time ;  and  the  jaws 
of  a  man-trap,  or  a  charge  out  of  a  spring-gun,  nicely  set  and 
properly  levelled,  will  do  it  sometimes  more  quickly  and  with 
less  trouble." 

"  You  are  too  knowing,  by  half,"  said  Mr.  Bullfinch.  "  A 
fellow  a-foot  keep  up  with  Cowslip  !  I  suppose  that  if  you 
had  been  there  it  wouldn't  have  vanished  into  the  air?" 

"  I  don't  think  it  would,  especially  as  I  should  have  had 
Tiger  at  my  heels,"  returned  the  keeper,  grimly.  "  But  it  is 
strange  to  hear  you  going  on  in  this  way,  and  to  see  you  look- 


§6  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

ing  so  solemn.  You  have  ridden  through  these  woods  on 
nights  quite  ..  unkid  as  this,  and  you've  met  all  sorts  of  men 
in  all  sorts  of  places." 

"  If  this  ^ad  appeared  as  a  man  I  should  not  have  thought 
so  much  of  ,"  said  Mr.  Bullfinch,  with  great  force  and  de- 
liberation. 

"  Oh  !  it  appeared  as  a  woman  !  I  have  it !  Miriam  Cots- 
wold,  dark  Janet,  or  some  other  gal  of  their  infernal  tribe,  on 
the  lookout  while  the  men  of  the  gang  are  after  the  roosting 
pheasants.  Your  friend  Gypsy  Jack  is  at  the  bottom  of  this 
here  audacious  job." 

"  It  didn't  appear  as  a  woman,  either.  It  came  as  a  horse, 
a  white  horse !"  said  the  farmer. 

"Well,  what  of  that?" 

"  A  good  deal  of  it,"  said  John  tartly.  "  I  think  I  know  a 
horse  when  I  see  one.  •  I  ought  to,  for  I  was  born  the  night 
Pot-8-os  was  foaled,  and  have  ridden  for  forty  years.  This 
wasn't  a  real  horse,  but  the  apparition  of  one." 

"  What  makes  you  believe  it  wasn't  real  t^ 

"  Two  or  three  things.  It  didn't  act  like  a  real  horse.  Cow- 
slip didn't  act  as  if  it  was  a  real  horse.  I  felt  that  it  wasn't 
a  horse  with  four  honest  shoes  on,  made  by  a  mortal  black- 
smith at  an  earthly  forge." 

He  then  told  the  story  of  his  ride  from  the  entrance  into 
the  woods,  and  the  earnest  narrative  was  not  without  some  im- 
pression on  the  keeper.  Moleskin  filled  his  pipe,  replenished 
John's  glass  and  his  own,  and  looked  fixedly  at  the  farmer  for 
some  moments. 

"  It  is  very  strange,"  said  he,  musingly.  "  What  I  can't 
make  out  is  the  white  horse." 

"  Just  so.     I  can't  make  it  out  myself" 

"  I  don't  mind  telling  you  now,"  said  the  keeper,  "  but  in 
strict  confidence,  people  have  thought  they  saw  something  in 
these  woods  before  that  was  not  just  right.  But  then,  you  see, 
it  wasn't  a  white  horse,  but  a  brindled  dog— a  deerhound. 
Some  fifteen  years  ago  one  of  my  men  was  murdered  by 
poachers." 

« I  remember  it.  I  saw  the  body,  and  a  shocking  sight  it 
was,"  said  Mr.  Bullfinch. 

"  So  it  was.     Here  lay  the  dog  under  a  hawthorn  bush,  shot 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO  N.  37 

through  the  head.  A  little  further  iu  the  thicket  was  the 
man,  with  his  breast  blown  in  by  a  charge  fired  .;ight  over  the 
heart,  and  close  to  him,  for  the  powder  burnt  his  clothes. 
Several  fellows,  well-known  poachers,  were  arrested  on  suspi- 
cion, among  them  two  gypsies,  one  of  whom  wa ;  the  brother 
of  your  friend  Jack,  and  the  father  of  Miriam  ^  swold.  But 
nothing  could  be  brought  home  to  them,  and  ixic  murderers 
were  never  detected.  The  Marquis,  as  in  duty  bound,  pro- 
vided for  the  widow  and  her  children,  but  she  was  doleful  in 
these  parts,  and  soon  moved  away,  down  into  Northampton- 
shire. Well,  they  say  the  man  walks,  and  the  dog  along  with 
him,  though  Hector  was  my  dog,  not  his  ;  and  the  story  goes 
among  the  old  women,  who  profess  to  know,  that  he  will  walk 
as  long  as  the  murderer  lives.  When  he  dies  and  goes  to 
judgment  they  say  the  weary  spirit  will  find  rest." 

"  Do  you  believe  this.  Moleskin  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  do  or  not.  I  am,  as  you  may  say, 
a  lonely  man,  and  my  time  is  mostly  spent  in  the  gloom  and 
shadow  of  the  woods.  I  was  born  under  these  oaks,  and 
hardly  a  night  for  fifty  years  but  I  have  heard  the  hoot  of 
the  owl  among  the  ivy.  I  don't  know  whether  I  believe  in 
this  reputed  ghost  or  not,  but  I  am  sure  I  don't  fear  it." 

"  Did  you  ever  see  it  ?"  said  the  farmer. 

"  The  man,  never.  I  may  have  seen  the  dog.  In  these  parts 
there  are  but  few  like  him.  Some  years  ago  I  came  upon  a 
brindled  deerhound,  near  the  spot  where  the  man  was  mur- 
dered, three  nights  running.  At  first  I  thought  he  was  self- 
hunting,  but  he  always  disappeared'at  that  particular  spot,  and 
what's  more,  he  left  no  tracks ;  I  brought  a  dark  lantern  and 
examined  the  ground  at  night,  as  the  rain  would  have  washed 
the  footprints  away  by  morning.  On  the  third  night  I  shot  at 
this  dog,  and  what  do  you  think  happened  ?" 

"  The  gun  missed  fire  or  you  missed." 

'<  The  gun  did  not  miss  fire  and  I  didn't  miss.  I  am  not  in 
the  habit  of  missing.  But  .1  didn't  hit,  either.  I  shot  at  his 
haunches.  Instead  of  making  off,  he  turned  and  looked  me  in 
the  face — full  in  the  face !  John  Bullfinch,  as  sure  as  you 
and  I  sit  here  alive,  he  was  shot  in  the  head,  instead  of  the 
haunches ;  and  it  w^as  my  old  dog  Hector,  the  one  that  was 
killed  when  the  man  was  murdered.    Some  say  there's  no  soul, 


38  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

no  spirit  in  a  dog,  to  come  back  again  ;  but  this  dog  did  come 
back." 

"  I  have  heard  the  same  thing  remarked  about  horses,  and 
hold  it  to  be  all  a  lie,  the  invention  of  people  who  have  not 
half  the  sense  and  affection  of  a  good  horse,"  said  John. 

"  Still,  this  matter  I  have  been  relating  throws  no  light  up- 
on the  Avhite  horse.  May  it  not  have  been  a  white  cart-horse 
strayed  ?" 

"  Cart-horse  !"  said  John,  with  some  contempt.  "  Do  you 
think  there  ever  was  a  cart-horse  that  could  keep  alongside  of 
Cowslip,  and  she  at  speed  ?" 

"  Well,  I  suppose  not.  But  there's  a  white  horse,  an  old 
hunter,  over  at  the  Barleymow." 

*'  Flea-bitten  gray,  blind  of  an  eye,  and  with  a  stringhalt," 
said  Mr.  Bullfinch.  He  continued :  "  This  had  a  thorough- 
bred head,  an  eye  like  one  bright  star  on  a  night  of  storm, 
and  its  action  must  have  been  perfect — perfect !" 

"  Tom  Scarlet  is  always  getting  all  sorts  of  horses.  It  may 
be  a  new  one,  escaped  from  The  Grange  and  broke  into  the 
woods  on  the  far  side." 

"  No  such  luck.  It  was  an  apparition ;  that  is  what  the 
white  horse  was,  and  it  portends  something,  probably  a  death." 

"  Come,  none  of  that.  I  ain't  going  to  die,  nor  you  either, 
you  know,"  said  the  keeper. 

"  I  hope  not,  Dick ;  but  Death  and  the  White  Horse  is  a 
constant  saying  all  the  country  through,  and  has  been  so  ever 
since  I  was  a  boy." 

"  It's  the  pale  horse  in  the  Bible,  which  I  take  to  be  a 
shadowy  sort  of  a  cream.  This  saying  about  Death  and  the 
White  Horse  was  all  along  of  a  picture  painted  for  old  George 
the  Third,"  said  Moleskin. 

"  I  have  seen  it,  and  it  is  about  as  much  like  a  real  horse 
as  a  hen  ;  not  at  all  like  the  appearance  of  the  horse  I  saw 
to-night.  Besides,  if  this  was  King  Death's  horse,  he  had 
been  throwed,  for  there  was  no  rider  on  him,"  said  John. 

They  sat  and  conversed  for  a  short  time  further,  but  to  no 
end.  Among  all  the  appearances  they  could  remember  to 
have  heard  of — some  in  old  churchyards,  some  in  crumbling 
mansions,  some  on  lonely  heaths,  where  men  all  unprepared 
for  the  taking  off  had  been  done  to  death  ;  some  beneath  gib- 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK.  39 

bets,  upon  which  the  bones  of  criminals  swung  in  the  moaning 
wind  and  hollowly  rattled — there  was  none  of  a  White  Horse. 
At  length  John  started  out,  tightened  the  girths  of  the  mare, 
and,  taking  her  by  the  bridle,  led  her  along.  The  keeper, 
with  his  gun  in  the  hollow  of  his  arm  and  with  the  mastiff  at 
his  heels,  walked  with  him,  intending  to  go  but  a  short  dis- 
tance. It  was  the  dead  time  of  the  night.  There  was  no  yelp 
from  the  fox.  The  owl  was  still,  among  the  ivy  of  his  hollow 
tree.  No  cheerful  crow  came  from  a  distant  hen-roost.  The 
snow  fell  silently.  The  wind  was  hushed.  The  leaden  sky 
seemed  to  press  down  almost  upon  the  tree-tops.  Mist  rose 
breast-high  from  the  swampy  ground.  The  men  and  the  mare 
plodded  along,  with  the  mastifi'  in  their  tracks.  The  ride  they 
took  was  a  narrow  one,  and  presently  it  fell  into  a  deep  swale, 
in  which  alders  and  willows  were  mingled  with  the  hazel  and 
the  hawthorn. 

"  It  was  hereabouts  that  the  man  was " 

The  keeper  stopped  abruptly,  for  with  a  noise  like  the  rush 
of  a  whirlwind  the  mist  was  pushed  aside,  as  it  were,  and  a 
white  horse,  dimly  seen,  swept  by  them  at  speed.  The  mastiff 
followed  with  a  savage  howl.  The  men  exchanged  exclama- 
tions, and  the  keeper  felt  the  caps  upon  the  nippks  of  his  gun. 

"If  I  had  had  a  silver  bullet  in  one  of  the  barrels  I  should 
have  fired,"  said  he.     "  No  other  metal  will  bring  'em  down." 

The  dog  came  slinking  back  and  retired  behind  them. 

"  Tiger's  cowed  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  !"  said  the  keeper. 
"  John,  come  back  and  stay  with  me  till  daylight.  There  are 
things  abroad  that  bode  no  good." 

"  Not  I.     Come  what  may  I  will  go  through  !" 

"  Well,  well,  just  come  back  till  I  melt  half  a  crown  and 
run  it  through  the  bullet  mould.  With  this  gun  and  a  brace 
of  silver  bullets,  I'd  face  the  devil  himself." 

"And  I  will  without  them,  if  need  be.  I  fear  God,  honor 
the  King,  and  say  confound  the  devil  and  all  his  works  !" 

With  this  John  Bullfinch  mounted  the  mare,  and  uttering 
a  loud  "  Good-night,"  rode  rapidly  aw^ay.  The  keeper  leaned 
upon  his  gun  for  a  few  seconds,  then  cast  a  look  upon  his  dog 
and  turned  homewards. 


40  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  Sir  Leoline,  the  baron  rich, 
Hath  a  brindled  mastiff  bitch. 
In  her  kennel,  beneath  the  rock, 
She  makes  answer  to  the  clock. 
Twelve  for  the  quarters, 
Four  for  the  hour  : 
Sixteen  short  barks,  not  over  loud  ; 
Some  say  she  sees  my  lady's  shroud." 

IT  was  not  a  very  uncommon  thing  for  John  Bullfinch  to  be 
late  at  night,  but  it  was  seldom  that  he  was  late  in  the 
morning,  and  ill  at  ease  as  well.  After  his  midnight  ride  with 
the  White  Horse-,  he  was  gloomy  and  depressed,  feeling  that 
something  ill  was  about  to  happen,  or  to  be  disclosed.  His 
daughter  had  aired  the  county  paper,  and  folded  it  by  his 
plate.  He  sat  down  to  the  meal  with  May  and  his  son,  but 
ate  nothing,  and  let  the  paper  lie  untouched.  His  eyes  were 
red,  yet  dull ;  for  the  treacherous  spirit  of  Cognac  had  changed 
from  ruby  to  blue.  He  stirred  his  coffee  and  seemed  in  deep 
thought.  The  breakfast  spoon  in  the  cup  made  no  such  merry 
music  as  that  which  had  tinkled  in  the  glass  the  night  before 
at  the  Wheatsheaf.  He  stared  at  the  white  cat  and  pondered. 
A  pigeon,  flashiug  past  the  window,  like  a  wreath  of  snow, 
made  him  start.     He  looked  at  May. 

"  I  was  late  last  night — very  late — much  later  than  I  intended 
to  be.     You  didn't  sit  up  ?" 

"  No,  we  did  not ;  but  I  was  unable  to  sleep,"  replied  May. 
"  Fury  barked  the  live-long  night,  except  just  when  you  came 
in.     I  can't  think  what  ailed  her." 

"  Tramps  about,  perhaps,"  said  Young  Jack  ;  "  but  I  think 
she  wants  a  licking,  and  I  had  a  great  mind  to  get  up  and  give 
her  one." 

"  It  was  well  you  didn't,"  said  his  father.  '*  If  you  had  licked 
Fury  you  might  have  got  licked  yourself.  The  bitch  is  a  good 
bitch,  faithful  and  bold.  She  acted  after  her  kind,  and,  no 
doubt,  had  reason  for  what  she  did.  I  wish  some  boys  were 
half  as  true  and  sensible." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOR.  41 

If  they  were  no  more  sensible  than  to  howl  all  night  for 


nothing " 

Young  Jack  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  for  the  door  was 
flung  open  by  one  of  the  farm  men,  and  John  Bullfinch  cried  : 

"  AVhat's  the  matter  now  ?" 

"  Murder  is  the  matter  now,"  said  Moleskin,  striding  into 
the  room. 

"No  wonder  Fury  howled!"  said  May. 

John  Bullfinch  sat  aghast.  What  with  the  brandy  blues, 
the  White  Horse,  and  the  tidings  brought  by  Moleskin,  he 
was  nearly  confounded. 

"  Murder  !     Why,  how,  and  where,  and  who  ?" 

"  As  to  who  and  where,  it's  easy  to  answer ;  but  how,  and 
why  it  was  done,  is  another  thing.  I  want  you  to  ride  over  to 
my  lodge  while  I  go  for  the  doctor.  I  have  had  Stevens 
taken  there.  He  isn't  quite  dead,  though  senseless  and  left  for 
dead.  He  was  found  within  forty  yards  of  where  you  aud  I 
parted." 

"  I  knowed  it  all  along.  I  told  you  so,  Dick  !"  exclaimed 
John  Bullfinch. 

"  Then,  sir,  if  anybody  else  but  you  had  said  he  knowed  it 
all  along,  I  should  have  took  him  up  as  accessory  before  the 
fact,  which  is  just  about  as  bad  as  the  principal,"  cried  another 
comer. 

It  was  the  parish  constable,  a  little  red-nosed  man,  voluble 
and  restless,  with  high  esteem  of  his  own  wisdom  and  station. 
Parkins,  besides  being  inquisitive  and  meddlesome  by  "  var- 
tue"  of  his  ofiice,  naturally  was  a  busybody.  He  did  not  en- 
tertain such  a  fair  opinion  of  many  of  his  neighbors  as  of 
himself,  but  rather  held  in  contempt  many  people  who  would 
have  been  much  surprised  if  they  could  have  heard  some  of 
his  rapid  soliloquies.  He  valued  himself,  in  truth,  very  highly  ; 
first  as  "  one  of  the  authorities ;"  second,  as  the  one  who  was, 
in  his  own  expressive  words,  "not  to  be  gammoned."  His 
neighbors,  high  aud  low^,  were  estimated  by  a  sort  of  sliding 
scale,  v/ith  which  their  liberality  in  dispensio^ialt  liquor  had 
much  to  do.  Sir  Jerry  Suaflie,  as  one  of  the  authorities.  Chair- 
man of  the  bench  of  Magistrates,  stood  high  on  that  account, 
but  higher  still  because  his  ale  was  of  rare  excellence,  and  was 
to  be  had  at  the  Hall  by  whoever  visited  it,  without  so  much 


42  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

as  asking.  Parkins  often  visited  the  mansion  on  one  pretence 
or  another,  and  tersely  expressed  his  opinion  of  the  place  and 
its  owner,  thus:  "  Best  quality,  nut-brown,  clear  as  amber, 
sound  as  a  bell — tap  alius  a-runniug."  John  Bullfinch  did 
not  stand  as  high  as  Sir  Jerry  in  the  constable's  mental  barom- 
eter, by  some  inches.  John  had  backed  prize-fighters,  and 
Parkins  hated  prize-fighters.  They  had  once  or  twice  "  pitched 
into  the  authorities,"  instead  of  keeping  the  King's  peace  when 
solemnly  commanded  to  do  so.  John  suflfered  gypsies  to  camp 
in  his  green  lanes,  and  Parkins  abhorred  gypsies,  especially 
Gypsy  Jack.  John  had  a  sort  of  weakness  in  regard  to  pun- 
ishing poachers,  and  a  poacher  was  an  abomination  to  Parkins. 
]\Ir.  Bullfinch  had  once  interceded  for  a  shepherd  boy  taken 
red-handed,  as  it  w^ere,  by  Parkins,  with  a  dead  hare  in  pos- 
session, and  had  so  "  gammoned  the  higher  authorities"  that 
the  culprit  was  released  with  a  nominal  fine.  Still,  there  was 
compensation, and  Parkins  summed  it  up  as  follows  :  "  But  his 
brew  is  first-rate ;  No.  1,  brass  tap,  right  hand  side  of  the  cel- 
lar !  Best  malt,  double  strike  to  the  hogshead.  East  Kent 
hops  ;  black  horse  brand !  Besides,  his  tankards  is  good  meas- 
ure— imperial.  None  o'  them  disgustin'  and  disappintin'  false 
bottoms  with  which  some  low  people  try  to  gammon  the  au- 
thorities." Such  was  the  man  who  had  hastily  entered  while 
Mr.  Bullfinch  was  speaking. 

"  Parkins,  shut  up.  I  know  what  Mr.  Bullfinch  means  and 
it's  all  right,"  said  the  keeper.  "  Go  with  him  and-  examine 
the  tracks  about  the  place  where  Stevens  lay.  You'll  find  Mr. 
Bullfinch's  and  mine  at  no  great  distance,  and  the  tracks  of 
his  mare,  for  it  left  oflf  snowing  as  I  got  home.  But  those  are 
not  the  tracks  that  are  wanted.  You  may  find  the  track  of 
another  horse,  whether  shod  or  not  I  can't  say.  Report  all 
to  me." 

"Not  shod  —  of  course  not,"  said  John  Bullfinch  to  the 
keeper,  in  an  undertone. 

"Father,"  said  Young  Jack,  "there's  no  use  in  letting 
Moleskin  go  fofthe  doctor.  Pll  throw  the  saddle  on  Young 
Cowslip,  and  go  myself     I  can  be  there  in  no  time." 

"The  gig,  Jack — the  gray  horse  in  the  gig,"  said  May. 
"  The  doctor  will  be  there  much  sooner  that  way  than  upon 
his  pony." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  43 

The  farmer  looked  round,  and  nodded  acquiescence  in  what 
had  been  advanced  by  his  son  and  daughter.  He  then  gave 
his  orders  promptly. 

"  Saddle  Black  Hearty.  IMoleskin,  you  shall  ride  Young 
Cowslip.  She  is  all  ready,  for  Jack  has  been  a-field.  Parkins, 
you  must  come  on  a-foot." 

"  One  minute/'  said  May  Bullfinch  ;  "  Stevens  is  a  married 
man." 

"  Yes,  with  five  children,"  returned  the  keeper ;  "  and  how 
to  break  this  bad  news  to  his  wife  I  don't  know.  Of  course, 
if  it  comes  to  the  worst,  the  Marquis  will  provide  for  the 
family ;  but  when  the  wife  first  hears  of  it  there  will  be  a 
terrible  taking  on  ;  and  I  never  could  bear  to  see  a  woman  in 
great  ajnd  sudden  grief" 

"  Nor  I  neither,"  said  John.  "  But  here's  May  ;  I  see  what 
she  means  to  do." 

"  Yes,  I  will  break  this  fearful  news  to  his  wife ;  and  may 
Our  Father  in  heaven  see  fit,  in  his  mercy,  to  save  this  \)ooy 
man  to  her  and  the  little  children." 

"  Very  proper  on  her  part,"  said  Parkins,  as  May  left  the 
room.  "  I  have  always  said  she  was  a  good  'un,  A  deal  too 
good  to  be  throwed  away  on  such  a  scamp  as  Tom  Scarlet,"  he 
added  in  an  undertone.  Then  aloud,  "  As  there  will  be  much 
to  do  by  the  authorities — somebody  to  be  took  up  and  jugged 
• — my  opinion  is  that  a  horn  of  ale  apiece,  before  we  set  out 
on  the  investigation,  will  be  the  right  way  to  begin." 

John  Bullfinch  made  a  sign  to  his  housekeeper,  and  Parkins 
soon  had  his  face  buried  in  a  tankard.  Neither  the  farmer 
nor  the  keeper  drank.  The  former  betrayed  signs  of  impa- 
tience, as  Black  Hearty  and  Young  Cowslip  were  now  at  the 
door. 

"  We  needn't  be  in  a  great  hurry.  AVe  shall  be  there  long 
before  the  doctor,"  said  the  keeper.  "  I  only  hope  there  is  a 
chance  for  life.     Stevens  was  one  of  my  best  men." 

"A  good,  stout  fellow,  and  feared  nothing,"  replied  Mr. 
Bullfinch. 

"  A  quarrelsome  blade,  gentlemen,  known  to  the  authorities, 
and  been  had  up  three  or  four  times  for  assault  and  battery," 
observed  Parkins.  "  Now,  who  do  you  suspect  of  this  here 
murder,  master  keeper?" 


44  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  I  have  not  formed  any  suspicion  yet — have  you  ?"  replied 
Moleskin. 

AVith  his  head  on  one  side,  and  the  cunning  look  of  a  jack- 
daw, the  constable  laid  his  finger  to  his  nose  and  winked 
portentously.  "  Mum's  the  word  now.  When  the  parties  be 
took  up  and  in  safe  holt,  I'll  let  you  know  as  much  as  I  do." 

"  Which  is  just  nothing  at  all,  I  exjject,"  said  the  keeper,  as 
Parkins  went  away. 

John  Bullfinch  and  Moleskin  followed,  and,'being  mounted, 
quickly  passed  the  constable.  They  rode  along  some  distance 
in  silence,  but  as  they  neared  the  wood  the  farmer  said : 

"And  you  think  he  is  fatally  injured?  Has  anybody  ques- 
tioned him  ?" 

"  It's  of  no  use ;  he  is  out  of  his  senses,  and  all  over  blood 
from  wounds  in  the  head.     I'm  afraid  his  skull  is  broken." 

*'  With  what  weapon,  think  you — a  bludgeon  or  the  stock 
of  a  gun?"  said  John. 

"  I  didn't  stay  to  examine,  and  it  will  be  hard  to  say ;  he 
mumbled  a  little  as  I  leaned  over  him,  and  I  made  out  a  few 
wandering  words.     What  do  you  think  he  said  ?" 

"  Something  about  his  wife  and  children,  no  doubt." 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind ;  his  mind  seemed  to  be  upon  what 
he  saw,  or  thought  he  saw,  at  the  time  of  the  attack.  I  couldn't 
understand  much  that  he  muttered,  but  he  mentioned  the  name 
of  Tom  Scarlet,  and  spoke  of  a  white  horse." 

"  Dick,  I'm  amazed  !"  cried  John  Bullfinch. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  that  I  am  much.  There  was  a  white 
horse  about  there,  we  know.  Now  that  violence  has  been  done, 
I  have  chucked  over  the  notion  of  anything  supernatural.  It's 
a  good  deal  too  natural  when  it  comes  to  murder.  The  ghosts 
of  men  don't  break  heads  in  the  dark,  nor  the  ghosts  of  horses 
kick  their  brains  out." 

"  But  Tom  Scarlet— I  know  he's  rash  and  wild,  but  I  can- 
not believe  he  did  this  thing ;  he  had  no  enmity  against  Ste- 
vens," said  John. 

"  He  has  queer  associates  for  a  man  of  his  property  and 
belongings,  has  Mr.  Tom  Scarlet,"  said  the  keeper ;  "  he's  hail 
fellow  \\ii\\  the  gypsies,  and  hand  and  glove  with  a  set  of  men 
from  London  and  Brunmiagcm,  who  dress  well,  drink  hard, 
ride  fine  horses,  and  live  the  Lord  knows  how.     I  wish  I  knew 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  45 

what  sort  of  company  supped  at  the  Grange  last  night.  This 
job  was  not  done  till  nigh  morning.  I  could  tell  that  by  the 
blood,  and  by  Stevens's  watch,  which  stopped  at  about  four." 

"  It  looks  bad — it  looks  avvkward  ;  but  I  do  not  believe  that 
Tom  did  it." 

"  He  may  have  been  with  the  man  who  did  it,  though," 
returned  Moleskin.  "  But  we  will  say  nothing  of  this  to  Par- 
kins. The  first  thing  is  to  know  whether  it's  death  or  some 
chance  for  life." 

These  were  the  last  words  that  passed  until  they  reached  the 
lodge,  where  they  found  Stevens  still  in  a  heavy  stupor.  The 
doctor  came,  examined  the  wounds,  and  talked  as  doctors  do. 

"A  critical  case;  compound  fracture;  great  danger  that 
inflammation  would  set  in  ;  concussion  of  the  brain ;  the  worst 
results  to  be  apprehended,  but  still  some  hope,  with  judicious 

treatment.     Good  thing  I  was  sent  for  instead  of , 

a — a — a  person  of  no  experience !" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

^' The  chough  and  the  crow 
To  roost  have  gone, 

The  owl  sits  on  the  tree; 
The  night  wind  makes  its  fitful  moan, 

Like  infant  charity. 
The  wild  fire  dances  in  the  glen — 

The  red  star  sheds  its  ray — 
TJprouse  ye,  then,  my  merry,  merry  men  ! 

It  is  our  opening  day." 

WHEN  John  Bullfinch  parted  with  Gypsy  Jack  at  the 
turn  of  the  lands,  that  worthy  cantered  along  until  he 
was  two  or  three  miles  from  the  turnpike  road.  He  then  filled 
a  short  pipe,  struck  a  light,  and  puffing  away  merrily,  went 
briskly  forward  between  the  tall  hedges  of  the  lane.  The 
gypsies  seldom  spare  their  horses,  and  Jack  was  about  the  last 
man  in  England  to  spare  his  when  there  was  service  to  be 
done. 

The  wiry  galloway,  too,  had  good  blood  in  him,  and  went 
gaily  up  to  the  bit  as  though  he  would  never  tire,  unless  the 


46  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

pace  was  set  too  strong.  The  way  the  gypsy  was  travelling 
was  seldom  used  except  by  poachers,  tramps,  and  the  people 
of  his  own  roving  race.  Gypsy  Jack,  however,  had  no  desire 
for  company,  and  the  loneliness  of  the  situation  and  the  mur- 
kiness  of  the  night  rather  suited  him  than  otherwise.  A 
smart  canter  of  five  or  six  miles  brought  him  to  the  verge  of 
a  wide,  wild  heath.  It  was  a  sombre-looking  place,  even  when 
the  clumps  of  gorse,  which  grew  here  and  there,  could  be  seen. 
Now  it  was  one  waste  of  snow  below,  and  cloud  above,  save 
far  to  the  right,  where  a  red  glow  rose  like  the  reflection  of  a 
fire  from  the  mouth  of  a  pit  or  a  lime-kiln.  The  gypsy  rode 
towards  it.  He  drew  bridle,  after  some  time,  near  a  deep 
hollow,  in  the  bight  of  which  a  party  of  his  people  had  pitched 
their  tents.  The  embers  of  the  huge  fire  were  all  aglow  in  the 
bottom  of  the  glen,  and  though  the  tents,  with  their  covering 
of  snow,  could  not  be  distinguished  from  the  white  ground. 
Jack  readily  made  out  the  forms  of  the  horses  and  donkeys 
hobbled  at  the  camp.  It  was  no  part  of  his  design  to  show 
himself.  He  reined  up  under  the  lee  of  a  thick  clump  of 
gorse  and  gave  a  low  whistle.  Five  minutes  had  not  elapsed 
before  the  gorse  was  parted  where  the  gypsy  sat  on  his  horse, 
and  a  boy  of  some  fourteen  years  old  stepped  silently  out,  like 
a  young  wolf,  from  his  lair. 

"  I  thought  you  wasn't  a-going  to  come  at  all.  You've  been 
away  near  a  week,  and  me  with  such  news  as  never  was,"  said 
the  boy. 

"  I  was  detained.     "What  is  this  news  ?"  returned  Jack. 

"  Jagger  come  down  from  Lunnon  town,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  I  know  it.     I  met  Harry  Cox  at  the  fair." 

"  Then  you  expected  him,  perhaps  ?" 

"  Perhaps  I  did,  but  not  quite  so  soon,"  replied  Jack.  "  How- 
ever, as  he's  here,  he  must  come  to  a  settlement." 

"  He  won't  come  to  anything  of  the  sort,"  said  the  boy,  con- 
fidently. 

"Why  not,  Ike?" 

"  Because  he's  gone  again." 

"  Ah,  but  he'll  return.  He  dare  not  try  to  give  me  the  slip, 
or  Tom  Scarlet  either,"  said  Jack. 

"  But  he's  done  it.   He's  off  by  the  north  road  to-night ;  and, 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  47 

what  is  more,  Tom  of  Lincoln,  who  was  in  hiding,  packs  up 
his  bundle,  and  goes  off,  too,  by  the  Oxford  road." 

"  Which  shows  that  he  ain't  going  with  Jagger." 

"  Does  it  ?"  said  the  boy.  "  I  followed  him  at  a  distance. 
When  he  thought  he  was  w^ell  away,  he  cut  right  across  coun- 
try for  the  Barleymow.  I  went  upon  the  scout,  and  from  what 
I  heard  they're  off  before  uow\" 

"  What  horses  had  Jagger  ?"  said  Jack. 

"  Two — a  bay  and  a  gray." 

"  Dark  or  light  ?" 

"Dark — an  iron-gray  with  black  legs." 

"  You  see  they  can't  mean  going  fast  or  far,  for,  with  the 
groom,  they  are  three  men  to  two  horses.  Tom  of  Lincoln 
and  the  groom  must  ride  double.  Tom  Scarlet  and  I  can 
start  in  the  morning,  and  catch  them  this  side  of  Stratford," 
said  Jack. 

"  Aye ;  but,  uncle,  it's  my  belief  they  know  precious  well 
where  to  find  another  horse ;  for  they  had  a  spare  saddle  and 
bridle.  Besides,  Miriam  W'Ormed  it  out  of  the  groom  that  he 
thinks  they  are  bound  tor  Liverpool,  and  so  across  the  herring 
pond  to  Xorth  Ameriky." 

The  elder  gypsy  swore  a  great  oath,  and  remained  a  few 
minutes  in  deep  thought,  while  the  boy  stood  with  his  hand 
on  his  uncle's  knee. 

"  Ike,  it's  a  do — a  dead  sell !  Jagger's  an  out-and-out  vil- 
lain, for  which  there's  no  excuse,  as  he's  rich.  He  means  to 
do  Tom  Scarlet,  and  what's  worse,  to  do  me — me,  who  have 
always  been  fair  and  honest  as  a  dealer,  and  in  other  trans- 
actions." 

"  He  does.  So  does  Tom  of  Lincoln,  who  w^as  harbored  in 
our  own  tents." 

"Aye !  he's  another  nice  'un.  Wants  to  go  over  the  herring 
pond.  Well,  so  he  shall,  but  in  another  direction,  where 
there's  a  place  well  beknown  to  some  of  his  kin,  called  Botany 
Bay.  What  puzzles  me  is  the  other  horse;  yet  he  was  in 
Lincolnshire,  dark  like  and — but  jump  up.  We  must  go  to 
Tom  Scarlet  at  once.  So  now !  clip  me  under  the  arms  and 
away  we  go !" 

"  I  say  !"  cried  the  young  gypsy,  as  they  galloped  over  the 


48  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

heath,  "  didn't  I  make  a  good  pLant  upon  'em  ?     Where  would 
you  have  been  if  I  hadn't  been  on  the  lookout  ?" 

"  It  was  good — very  well  done ;  but  no  better  than  I  had  a 
right  to  expect,  considering." 

"  Considering  what  ?"  said  Ike,  with  some  disgust. 

"  Considering  your  bringings  up ;  the  advantages  you've 
enjoyed  in  having  had  an  uncle  like  me  to  look  after  your  edi- 
cation,  and  put  you  up  to  the  time  o'  day,"  replied  the 
guardian. 

"  Now,  you  pull  up  and  let  me  get  down,"  said  the  boy. 
''  If  this  is  all  you've  got  to  say  after  I've  been  on  the  scout 
two  nights  and  a  day,  laying  in  ditches  and  listening  in  at 
winders,  without  winking  or  flinching,  you  go  on  and  rouse 
Tom  Scarlet  yourself.  And  mind  that  there  bloodhound,  for 
he's  let  loose  o'  nights,  and  if  he  grabs  you  by  the  throat " 

He  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  for  his  uncle  seized  him  by 
the  wrist  and  spurred  rapidly  on  towards  the  Grange. 

Gj^psy  Jack  pulled  up  at  the  gate  of  a  straw-yard,  divided 
by  a  lane  from  an  old  orchard.  The  house  itself  stood  apart 
from  the  farm  buildings,  a  solid  "stone  structure,  frowning 
through  the  night  upon  these  visitors,  as  it  seemed.  There 
was,  however,  a  light  stirring  in  a  stable  to  the  right. 

"  Now,  Ike,"  said  the  gypsy,  in  a  low  voice,  "  you  know  all 
the  dogs,  and  you  know  his  room.  Get  him  up,  and  bring 
him  here  without  letting  any  of  the  men  hear  you.  Stop !  one 
word  more :  if  you  see  anybody  else  tell  'em  that " 

"  The  night  flies  apace,  and  there'll  be  the  d — 1  to  pay  in 
the  morning !"  was  said  close  to  his  side. 

"  You  here,  Miriam !  By  the  heavens !  but  you  startled 
me.  Girl,  I  have  told  you  to  keep  clear  of  Tom  Scarlet. 
What  brings  you  here  at  this  time  of  the  night  ?" 

"  What  brings  you  and  Ike,  if  it  comes  to  that  ?" 

"  I  may  go  where  a  lass  has  no  right  to  go.  I  had  business 
here,"  replied  Jack. 

"  So  had  I,"  said  Miriam. 

"  What  business  ?" 

"  To  put  Tom  Scarlet  on  the  right  scent,"  said  the  girl. 
Then  she  drew  her  shawl  about  her  head  and  tripped  away, 
singing, 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOJST.  49 

"  0  !  the  bonny  White  Horse, 
To  Banbury  Cross, 

He  gallops  away,  away  ? 
The  Scarlet  and  Gold, 
And  the  chestnut  bold, 

May  catch  him  by  break  of  day." 

Gypsy  Jack  and  his  hopeful  nephew  looked  after  their  niece 
and  cousin  until  her  form  was  lost  in  the  gloom,  and  a  burst 
of  light  flashed  forth  from  the  stable.  First  came  a  man  with 
a  lantern,  then  another  leading  by  the  bridle  the  horse  Danger ; 
and  he  was  followed  by  Tom  Scarlet,  booted  and  spurred,  and 
putting  caps  on  the  nipples  of  a  brace  of  pistols.  They  came 
on  to  where  the  gypsy  and  his  nephew  were  posted,  when  the 
Master  of  the  Grange  said  : 

"  This  is  a  sudden  move,  Jack.  I'm  glad  you've  come,  that 
we  may  have  a  short  talk  before  I  go.  I  did  not  know  that 
Miriam  had  told  you." 

"  She  had  not.  Of  Jagger's  being  here,  I  heard  at  Ayles- 
bury from  Harry  Cox.  Of  course  I  thought  he  had  come  to 
square  things;  but  now  I  learn  from  Ike,  and  partly  from 
Miriam,  that  he  means  nothing  but  a  double  cross,  one  on  you 
and  one  on  me.  But  what  has  Miriam  said  that  you  are  iii 
such  hot  haste?  She  is  my  sister's  child,  Mr.  Scarlet,  remem- 
ber that ;  and  this  scampering  over  the  country  by  night  and 
all  alone,  is  not  good  for  her." 

"  Miriam  can  take  care  of  herself,  Jack  ;  and  you  may  swear 
she'll  never  come  to  harm,  if  I  can  help  it.  She's  as  true  as 
steel  in  every  way.  The  lasses  of  your  race  are  unlike  the 
country  girls  of  our  folk." 

"  True  enough,"  returned  the  gypsy,  "  but  people  have  said 
that  she  is  too  free  with  you,  and  I  stand  to  her  in  place  of 
her  father  and  mother,  both  of  whom  she  lost  when  young. 
But  now  to  this  business  !  Ike,  stand  further  off  and  no  listen- 
ing to  what  passes  between  the  gentleman  and  me.  It's  a 
private  affair." 

"  Private  be  bio  wed!  I  know  more  about  it  already  than 
you  do,"  said  the  boy. 

"  Silence,  you  scamp,  and  cut  it,  until  I  call  you.  Now,  Mr. 
Scarlet,  what  do  you  mean  to  do — shall  I  go  with  you  ?" 

"  No,  better  not.     I  find  from  what  Miriam  says  that  Jag- 
ger  brought  the  AYhite  Horse  into  this  neighborhood,  and  hid 
4 


50  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

him  away  somewhere  until  he  got  the  quittance  I  had  left  for 
him  at  Oxford.  He's  also  got  a  pot  of  money.  Instead  of 
delivering  the  horse  to  me,  as  the  bargain  calls  for,  he  means 
to  run  him  off  to  America  and  chisel  all  his  creditors  in  this 
country.  Tom  of  Lincoln  is  glad  to  get  away,  and  having  a 
natural  bent  towards  roguery,  is  now  in  with  Jagger." 

"  I'll  have  him  in  Aylesbury  Jail  or  Oxford  Castle  before 
he's  four-and-twenty  hours  older,"  said  the  gypsy,  vindictively. 
"I've  sheltered  that  fellow  for  months,  and  the  London  and 
country  beaks  all  after  him.  Besides,  this  here  villain,  Jag- 
ger, owes  me  a  matter  of  above  eighty  pounds,  thirty  for  a 
gray  gelding,  and  the  other  cold  money — lent,  paid  down  on 
the  nail.     Now,  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?" 

"  I  shall  ride  straight  to  the  Barleymow.  If  I  find  Jagger 
there  I  will  take  him  by  the  throat,  and  make  him  tell  where 
the  White  Horse  is.  If  he  is  n^ot  there  I  shall  follow  him. 
He  cannot  get  away  from  Danger  and  me." 

"I  had  better  go  with  you,"  said  the  gypsy.  "Tom  of  Lin- 
coln may  show  fight  if  you  are  alone,  but  before  me  he'll  be  as 
quiet  as  a  lamb." 

"  The  people  of  the  house  will  be  on  my  side,"  replied  Tom. 
"  Besides,  I  am  man  enough  for  Jagger  and  the  Lincoln  man 
together.  Then  I  have  these,"  he  added,  pulling  one  of  the 
pistols  from  his  pocket. 

"  Beware  of  using  'em,"  said  the  gypsy.  "  It  makes  no  end 
of  trouble,  the  pulling  of  a  trigger  does,  even  when  one  is  in 
the  right.  Remember,  my  claim  against  Jagger  is  more  than 
eighty  pound — a  little  more.  Tell  him  to  settle  it  if  he  wants 
to  escape  the  beaks,  and  save  his  companion  from  making  a 
voyage  in  a  transport  ship." 

"  I  will  get  your  money.  Meantime,  stay  here  and  send 
your  scouts  out.  When  they  find  I  am  sharp  on  their  track 
they  may  double  back." 

"  Every  road  and  byway  shall  be  looked  to,'*  said  the  gypsy. 
"  I'll  set  a  plant  for  them  they  little  think  of.  Did  you  ever 
hear  of  such  a  rogue  as  Jagger,  and  him  rich  ?  If  a  poor 
man  gets  strapped,  and  has  to  bolt,  it  is  another  matter." 

"Jack,"  said  Tom  Scarlet,  ".I  must  be  moving.  Ike, here's 
a  couple  of  half  crowns  for  you.    Good-night!" 

He  mounted  the  chestnut  horse.     Danger  gave  a  snort  and 


THE  WHITE  HOFSE  OF  WOOTTOK  51 

a  buck  jump  into  the  air,  but  his  master  was  iu  the  saddle. 
He  landed  on  all  fours,  and  went  away  at  a  gallop. 

"Jump  up,"  said  Gypsy  Jack  to  his  nephew. 

"  There  goes  a  good  'un !"  said  the  boy. 

"  Ay,  a  thoroughbred  'un !  A  cock  of  true  game,  but  too 
hasty  for  real  serious  business.  You  see,  for  some  matters  it 
takes  a  deep,  cool  head,"  said  the  gypsy. 

"  Yourn,  I  suppose,"  returned  the  boy,  with  some  irony  in 
his  tone. 

"  Ay,  mine.  Now,  look  here  !  you  think  Tom  Scarlet's  gone 
after  Jagger  and  Tom  of  Lincoln." 

"  I  sartainly  do,"  said  the  boy. 

"  Weil,  then,  he  isn't.  Particular  business,  which  you  -and 
I  know  nothing  about,  has  called  him  down  into  Warwick- 
shire," said  the  gypsy,  coolly. 

"  I  never  heard  that  the  Barleymow  was  in  Warwickshire 
afore.     I  thought  it  was  in  Northamptonshire,"  said  the  boy, 

"And  I  tell  you  it's  none  of  your  business  where  it  is.  Tom 
Scarlet  isn't  gone  there." 

"Do  you  think  you  can  gammon  me  like  this  here?"  said 
the  nephew,  with  huge  contempt. 

"  Well,  you  are  one  of  our  family,  and  we  ain't  easily  hum' 
bugged,  that's  true.  But  mind  now,  mum's  the  word  for  the 
present !  Recollect,  you're  asleep  in  the  tent  this  blessed  min- 
ute, and  have  been  ever  since  dark,  if  anybody  axes  you." 

"  I  know  what  to  say.  But  nobody  will  ax  me ;  they  know 
it's  of  no  use,"  said  Ike. 

"  All  right !  Hand  over  them  half  crowns ;  I'll  take  care 
of  'em  for  you,"  said  Jack. 

"  Walker  !  I'll  take  care  on  'em  myself." 

"  You'll  play  at  pitch  and  hustle,  and  lose  every  penny,  be- 
sides being  pulled  by  Parkins,  or  the  beadle,  for  being  at  it  in 
church  time,"  said  the  gypsy. 

"  How  do  you  know  as  I  won't  win  ?"  cried  the  boy. 

"  Why  it  stands  to  reason,"  returned  Jack.  "  Here  are  yoUj 
a  boy  of  twelve " 

"  Fourteen !"  cried  Ike. 

"  Well,  here  you  are,  a  boy,  playing  with  men,  grooms,  and 
helpers,  and  what  not,  that  have  been  at  Newmarket,  and 
Epsom,  and  Melton  Mowbray " 


52  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  Aiu't  I  been  there,  too  ?"  said  the  nephew,  interruptiDg 
him.  "  Besides,  if  I  am  a  boy,  I'm  a  gypsy  boy,  and  up  to 
things.  Do  you  think  them  chuckle-heads  can  do  me  f  You're 
a-thinkiu'  of  your  own  losses  when  Young  Dutch  Sam  walked 
into  you  for  the  price  of  a  good  horse  at  cribbage." 

"  If  you  say  another  word  I'll  pitch  you  off,"  exclaimed  his 
uncle,  in  a  rage.  Then,  after  a  long  pause,  he  added  :  "  The 
cards  fell  agen  me  that  night." 

"They  generally  do  when  you  play  with  Sam,"  said  the 
boy. 

"  Sam's  a  Jew,"  replied  the  gypsy,  "  and  they're  a  people 
that  have  got  a  genius  for  games  of  that  sort — it  comes  natu- 
ral. However  cute  and  wary  a  man  may  be,  he  can't  do  the 
Jews,  and  in  the  long  run  they'll  do  him,  if  he  tries  it  on. 
Therefore,  Ike,  avoid  'em  through  life  in  ticklish  transactions ; 
but  in  matters  of  buying  and  selling  deal  with  'em.  There's 
no  better  or  more  liberal  business  men  than  the  Jews,  when 
they  know  you're  on  the  square  yourself" 

In  all  probability  this  wisdom  was  the  fruit  of  experience, 
but  it  may  also  be  that  the  "liberal  business  men"  the  gypsy 
alluded  to  had  very  seldom  found  that  he  was  "  on  the  square '* 
himself. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"  Whicli  be  the  malefactor! 


FOR  the  creation  of  sensation  wide  and  deep  in  a  quiet  rural 
neighborhood,  nothiug  is  so  effective  as  murder,  arson, 
highway  robbery,  housebreakiug,  or  violence  which  appears  to 
have  been  attempt  at  murder.  Ministries  may  go  out ;  dynas- 
ties may  change ;  foreign  thrones  may  topple  ;  great  convul- 
sions of  nature  may  happen,  and  the  rustic  goes  on  ploughing, 
sowing,  reaping,  mowing,  and  keeping  his  beasts  afield  without 
much  concerning  himself  in  such  matters.  But  let  Sir  John's 
keei)er  be  shot  at  in  the  ash  spinney,  Farmer  Bullock's  stack- 
yard be  fired,  the  steward  be  knocked  off  his  mare  and  robbed 
of  forty  pounds,  or  even  Gafier  Goodman's  geese  be  stolen,  and 
the  whole  country  side  is  aroused.     Squire,  parson,  yeoman, 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  53 

constable,  bcadic  and  bumpkin  seize  upon  the  one  theme  for 
gossip  and  declamation.  The  landlord  thrives.  There  is  vast 
consumption  of  nut-brown  ale  and  tobacco.  Magistrates  ride 
to  and  fro.     Officers  wear  an  air  of  portentous  mystery. 

For  weeks  after  the  events  before  related  there  was  but  one 
topic  in  the  hundred  of  Eidingcumstoke,  and  no  more  to  epcak 
of  in  the  hundreds  adjacent.  The  attempt  to  murder  Stevens 
was  on  every  tongue,  and  so  was  the  flight  of  Tom  Scarlet. 
And  yet,  according  to  the  majority,  these  things  w^re  what 
they  had  always  expected  and  confidently  predicted.  For  a 
few  days  Parkins  had  maintained  an  air  of  cautious  wisdom 
and  frozen  silence,  but  under  the  influence  of  the  tap  at  The 
George  and  Crown  he  thawed,  and  revealed  to  a  chosen  few 
the  ramifications  of  a  great  conspiracy  in  which  Tom  Scarlet, 
Gypsy  Jack,  Miriam  Cotsw^old,  and  Young  Ike  were  the  prin- 
cipals, and  John  Bullfinch,  Moleskin,  and  perhaps  the  Marquis 
of  Woottou,  the  intended  victims.  The  Eadicals,  Parkins 
thought,  were  at  the  bottom  of  it.  The  Marquis  was  a  known 
*'  Church  and  King "  man,  so  -was  the  keeper,  so  was  John 
Bullfinch.  It  w^as  true  that  the  Scarlets  had  always  been 
staunch  Tories  time  out  of  mind,  but  Tom  was  known  to  have 
been  in  communication  with  men  from  London  and  Birming- 
ham, and,  besides,  having  been  flatly  refused  the  hand  of  Mav 
Bullfinch,  he  had  come  into  the  plot,  partly  for  revenge  and 
partly  with  a  view  to  carry  her  off*  to  foreign  parts.  Then 
again,  the  gypsies,  as  Parkins  had  always  declared  to  the 
authorities  (and  more's  the  pity  that  he  wasn't  listened  to), 
ought  to  have  been  transported  long  ago.  Having  hit  upon 
this  theory,  the  constable  turned  it  over  so  often  in  his  mind 
that,  by  a  natural  process,  he  came  to  believe  it,  and  not  only 
revealed  it  to  the  chosen  few  at  The  George,  in  whose  age  and 
discretion  he  could  confide,  but  to  the  butler  and  page  at  Sir 
Jerry  Snafile's,  where  he  called  every  day  to  report  progress. 
He  enjoined  secrecy,  but  of  course  the  page  hurried  with  the 
news  to  the  housekeeper,  the  ladies'  maid,  and  the  cook  ;  while 
the  butler  was  on  thorns,  as  he  metaphorically  expressed  it, 
until  he  had  the  opportunity  of  telling  it  to  the  steward,  a  man 
of  much  sagacity  and  decision  of  character,  charged  with  the 
collection  of  the  rents  of  Sir  Jerry  Snaflle's  two  estates.  The 
page  was  rather  large  for  his  livery,  and  much  communication 


54  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

with  the  huntsman,  the  whippers-in,  and  the  hunting-grooms 
had  so  excited  his  ambition  in  regard  to  sport,  that  he  was 
really  above  his  buttons.  He  addressed  the  eager  ladies,  after 
having  related  what  Parkins  had  said  with  a  few  embellish- 
ments, after  this  manner : 

They  knew  something  of  poachers  and  poaching — he  (the 
page)  did,  for  unfortunately  his  mother's  brother  had  been 
taken  up  for  it,  unjustly,  four  or  live  times.  None  of  his 
father's  relatives — bar  two — had  ever  been  charged  with  it, 
and  they  were  acquitted.  Therefore,  it  must  be  admitted  that 
poachers  were  up  to  anything.  The  ladies  were,  of  course, 
familiar  with  gypsies 

"  Not  at  all !"  cried  the  cook  and  the  ladies'  maid  promptly, 
though  the  fact  was  that  Miriam  Cotsvvold  had  told  their  for- 
tunes for  a  shilling  a-piece,  and  cheap  at  the  money. 

The  page  meant  familiar  with  their  disposition  to  depreda- 
tion and  crime.  Perhaps  they  had  heard  of  pirates.  Now, 
he  had  it  from  the  postboy  at  the  Wheatsheaf  that  a  sailor  of 
dark  and  sinister  appearance  had  held  a  long  consultation  with 
Gypsy  Jack  in  the  inn-yard  the  very  day  before  Stevens  was 
assailed,  and  there  was  no  doubt  he  was  one  of  the  gang. 

"  Why  ain't  they  arrested  ?"  said  the  cook. 

"  Because  they  ran  away — bolted,"  replied  the  page,  "  be- 
fore the  warrants  were  out." 

It  was  true  that  Tom  Scarlet  had  left  the  neighborhood,  and 
that  the  gypsies,  after  the  manner  of  their  people,  had  silently 
disappeared,  so  that,  in  the  glen  where  their  ponies  had  browsed 
and  their  fires  had  blazed,  there  Vv'as  nothing  but  white  ashes 
when  the  keeper  went  to  reconnoitre  the  ground. 

"  And  so,"  said  Farmer  Stubbs,  after  listening  to  the  recital 
of  Parkins  for  about  the  tenth  time,  "  all  this  here  has  been 
done  and  nobody  took  up." 

There  was  that  in  the  farmer's  tone  which  might  imply  some 
doubt  of  the  constable's  vigilance  and  activity. 

"  You  see,"  said  Parkins,  "  when  there's  a  case  of  this  kind, 
people  mustn't  be  took  up  haphazard.  They  must  be  pulled 
according  to  law,  and  they  can't  very  well  be  pulled  when  they 
have  cut  away  and  given  leg-bail  for  security.  Now,  Scarlet 
has  cleared  himself  out  of  the  country,  no  doubt ;  Gypsy  Jack 
is  also  out  of  our  jurisdiction,  besides  which,  the  magistrate's 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  55 

clerk  and  Moleskiu  say  there's  no  evidence  to  keep  him,  if  I 
had  him  in  holt." 

"  Then  the  amount  of  it  is,  that  as  Stevens  is  getting  better, 
nobody'll  be  took  up  at  all,"  said  Stubbs. 

"  Won't  there,  though  ?  From  information  I  have  received, 
I  think  I  may  venture  to  say,  that  I  shall  pull  somebody  in 
less  than  three  days." 

"  On  this  account  ?" 

"  On  this  here  account.  You  just  wait  for  two,  or,  say,  three 
days." 

But  though  Parkins  had  it  cut  and  dried,  and  many  agreed 
with  him,  there  was  a  minority  who  either  remained  in  doubt, 
or  were  satisfied  that  Tom  Scarlet  had  had  no  hand  in  the 
crime.  This  minority  included  John  Bullfinch  and  the  keeper. 
Still,  they  could  not  account  for  his  prolonged  absence  from 
the  Grange,  and  could  gather  nothing  from  his  men  as  to  his 
whereabouts  or  probable  return.  Moleskin,  silent,  active  and 
wary,  pushed  his  quest  in  every  direction,  but  nothing  had 
come  of  it. 

"  I  can't  account  for  his  not  being  here,"  said  John. 

"  I  can't  account  for  that  white  horse  being  there,"  replied 
Moleskin.  "  Gypsy  Jack,  Miriam,  and  Ike  have  disappeared, 
too — gone  like  bubbles  on  the  stream.  The  tribe  is  now  in 
Bedfordshire,  but  neither  Jack  nor  Miriam  nor  the  nevy  is 
with  them.     I  have  had  a  man  among  them,  and  I  know  it." 

"  He  can't  have  gone  off  with  Miriam — hey,  Dick  ?" 

"  I  think  not,"  said  the  keeper,  "  for  my  opinion  is,  that  he 
was  dead  struck  after  your  daughter  May.  Still,  as  a  bache- 
lor, I  don't  pretend  to  much  knowledge — I  mean  knowledge 
from  experience — of  that  sort  of  thing.  We  must  wait,  and 
we'll  say  nothing  about  the  white  horse  for  the  present  Ste- 
vens is  out  of  danger,  and  slowly  recovering.  He  says  he  saw 
a  white  horse  just  before  he  was  struck,  but  who  beat  him 
down  he  cannot  say.  As  soon  as  I  hear  of  anything  to  the 
purpose  I  will  come  over." 

Mr.  Parkins  had  examined  Stevens  many  times,  and  had 
been  sorely  puzzled  by  this  white  horse.  It  was  clearly  impli- 
cated, and  if  he  could  have  found  one  in  the  neighborhood 
answering  the  description,  he  would  have  thought  it  his  duty 
to   "  pull  it  up."     In  vain  he  re-examined  and  cutely  cross- 


56  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

examined  Stevens.  In  vain  he  had  over  from  the  nearest 
market  town  a  tippling,  red-nosed  man  in  rusty  black,  a  law- 
yer's clerk,  who  plied  the  under-keeper  with  leading  questions, 
and  consumed  many  tumblers  of  hot  gin-and-water.  AH  would 
not  do.  They  could  neither  get  the  white  horse  out  of  the 
case,  nor,  properly  saddled  and  bridled,  into  it.  He  was  run- 
ning loose.  The  turnpike  man  was  questioned.  Had  he  seen 
Tom  Scarlet  on  the  morning  in  question  ?  He  had.  The 
young  man  had  passed  through  his  gate  soon  after  daybreak. 

"  On  a  white  horse  ?" 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  On  a  dark  chestnut — the  hunter  Danger." 

The  lawyer's  clerk  had  another  round  or  two  of  gin-and- 
water,  and  then  "  summed  up"  by  informing  Parkins  that  if 
ever  the  case  came  to  trial,  the  counsel  for  the  defence  would 
ride  that  white  horse  clean  through  the  indictment. 

May  Bullfinch,  innocent  as  the  dove,  if  not  timid  as  the 
fawn,  had  been  shocked  and  deeply  pained  by  the  affair.  She 
believed  Tom  Scarlet  to  be  innocent,  and  her  brother  Jack 
maintained  the  same  with  such  vigor  and  emphasis,  that  he 
greatly  reassured  her  and  fortified  her  conviction.  Explana- 
tions !  Did  May  think  he  should  take  the  trouble  to  explain 
a  charge  made  by  Parkins  ? 

The  truth  was  that  Parkins  had  been  much  exasperated  by 
the  conduct  of  Young  Jack  since  the  morning  of  the  discovery. 
He  was  "flying  in  the  face  of  the  law,  manifesting  contempt 
for  the  authorities,  and  had  better  be  careful — accessories  after 
the  fact  could  be  pulled." 

May  visited  the  under-keeper's  cottage  nearly  every  day, 
taking  him  wine  and  such  delicacies  as  the  doctor  allowed  him 
to  have.  She  was  greatly  liked  by  Stevens  and  his  wife,  and 
^Yas  the  prime  favorite  of  the  children.  So  great  and  so  ap- 
parent had  her  influence  with  the  family  become,  that  the 
astute  and  vigilant  Parkins,  to  use  his  own  expression,  "smelt 
a  rat"  in  that  quarter.  She  would  sway  their  minds  and  mould 
the  man's  evidence  so  as  to  clear  Tom  Scarlet.  Justice  would 
be  defeated.  The  felony  would  be  compounded  and  hushed  uj), 
and  nobody  so  much  as  pulled,  even  for  a  preliminary  exami- 
nation upon  probable  cause,  unless  he,  Parkins,  watched  her 
stratagems,  detected  her  manoeuvres,  and  defeated  her  plans. 

May  sat  in  the  front  room  of  the  cottage  with  the  brown, 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  57 

curly-headed  little  boys  and  girls  of  the  Stevens  household  all 
about  her.  A  feast  of  nuts  and  cakes,  with  bread  and  rasp- 
berry jam,  was  interrupted  by  a  question  to  May  from  their 
father,  as  to  whether  any  news  had  yet  been  heard  of  Tom 
Scarlet. 

"  There  is  none,"  replied  May.  "  My  brother  was  at  the 
Grange  yesterday.  The  men  neither  know  where  he  is  nor 
when  he  is  likely  to  return." 

"It's  queer,  yery  queer!"  said  Steyens,  passing  his  hand 
before  his  eyes.  "  I  haye  been  considering  things,  and  I  think 
that  he  didn't  do  this  job  for  me." 

"Oh,  Steyens,  I  am  so  glad — so  very  glad  to  hear  this  from 
you,"  said  May.  "  I  always  felt  certain  that  he  was  incapable 
of  such  a  thing." 

"  Well,  Miss,  I  dunno  as  to  that.  It  was  pretty  well  settled 
that  he  was  a  yery  hard  hitter  when  his  blood  was  up,  and  I 
don't  doubt  his  capacity  at  all,  but  I  think  it  wasn't  him." 

"  I  am  sure  it  was  not,"  said  May. 

"  And  I  be  sure  as  it  was.  Now,  what  have  you  got  to  say 
to  that  ?"  exclaimed  the  constable,  rubbing  his  pimpled  nose 
with  the  nob  of  his  walking  stick,  as  he  stood  in  the  doorway 
and  surveyed  the  group. 

The  children  hid  themselves.  Stevens  told  Parkins  to  come 
in,  and  the  latter  entered.     May  Bullfinch  met  him. 

"  What  right  have  you  to  say  that  ?  What  are  your  reasons  ? 
Where  are  your  proofs  ?"  The  female  Bullfinch  seemed  in- 
clined to  fly  at  him  and  peck  him,  as  birds  do  those  who  molest 
their  young  in  the  nest. 

"  Reasons  !  I  don't  give  no  reasons  to  nobody ;  not  even  to 
their  honors  on  the  bench.  Proofs  !  proofs  ain't  to  be  called 
for  in  this  stage  of  the  investigation,"  said  the  learned  consta- 
ble, in  some  heat.  "  I  know  he  done  it,  and  that's  enough.  If 
anybody  else  had  done  it  I  should  have  pulled  'em.  If  he 
hadn't  abscondulated,  I  should  have  pulled  him." 

"  If  he  hadn't  what  ?"  said  May. 

"Cut  it,  mizzled,  bolted,  run  away!"  The  learned  consta- 
ble would  no  doubt  have  added  "skedaddled,"  if  that  express- 
ive word  had  been  then  in  use,  but  it  was  not. 

"  I  don't  care  for  all  that.  I  don't  believe  it  was  him,"  said 
Stevens. 


58  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N. 

"  You  don't  believe  it  was  him  as  done  it,"  said  Parkins, 
with  slowness  and  severity.  "  Didn't  you  think  you  saw  him  ? 
Ain't  there  a  warrant  out?  You  don't  think  he  done  it! 
What's  the  meaning  of  this  here  prevarication  ?  Is  it  the  re- 
sult of  a  bargain,  an  unlawful  bargain,  to  compound  the 
felony?" 

"  Compound  be  blowed — there's  no  prevarication  about  it. 
I  don't  think  he  struck  me,  and  so  I  shall  swear,"  said  Stevens. 

"  That's  right,  Stevens.  It's  the  truth,  and  do  you  stick  to 
it,"  said  May. 

"  Miss  Bullfinch,  you  be  interfering  with  this  case,  and  sug- 
gesting things  to  the  witness,  clean  agen  the  law,  and  in  op- 
position to  the  authorities  and  the  course  of  justice,"  said  the 
learned  constable. 

"  Justice !  to  put  the  crime  upon  an  innocent  and  absent 
man.  Here  is  the  only  person  that  can  know  anything  about 
it,  except  the  perpetrators,  and  he  says  Mr.  Scarlet  is  not 
guilty  of  it." 

"  I  know  he  does,  and  it's  a  precious  nice  statement  for  him 
to  make.  But  I  see  it  all !"  said  Parkins,  eyeing  a  bottle  on 
a  side  table.  "You've  been  giving  him  drink,  and  it's  flew  to 
his  head.     That's  what's  the  matter  with  him." 

"  No  more  than  the  doctor  ordered,"  said  Stevens. 

"  This  is  merely  sherry  wine,  and  you  may  see  that  the  cork 
has  not  been  drawn,"  said  May. 

"  Well,  then,  draw  it  at  once.  I  don't  care  if  I  take  a  drop 
with  him  myself.  Miss,"  said  the  placable  constable.  "  Sherry 
wine,  sich  as  your  fiither  keeps  and  has  had  on  hand  ever  since 
your  brother's  christening,  is  suverin  as  a  cordial  for  sick  peo- 
ple, and  wun't  do  them  in  health  any  harm.  All  the  author- 
ities agree  in  this." 

"  It  was  intended  for  the  patient  only,  but  here,  sir,"  she 
replied,  handing  him  a  glass,  after  some  movement  among  the 
bottles. 

Mr.  Parkins  accepted,  and  drank  a  very  fair  dose  of  physic 
before  he  discovered  the  trick  put  upon  him.  He  dashed  down 
the  glass  with  an  oath,  and  was  about  to  leave,  when  he  was 
met  in  the  doorway  by  John  Bullfinch  and  the  keeper. 

"  What's  the  row,  now  ?"  said  John. 

"Oh,  nothing — nothing,  except  a  plan  to  compound  the 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  59 

felony,  and  save  Scarlet  from  transportation.  That's  all !" 
said  the  indignant  constable. 

Moleskin  pushed  by  him  to  the  easy-chair  in  which  Stevens 
was  seated. 

"  Bill,"  said  he,  "  you  seem  to  be  doing  pretty  well  under 
the  care  of  your  wife  and  Miss  May  Bullfinch." 

"  Miss  Bullfinch  has  done  as  much  for  me  as  the  doctor,  if 
not  more.  I  shall  teach  my  children  to  say,  'God  bless 
her !'  "  said  Stevens. 

"  We  want  to  hear  your  account  of  this  matter  once  more. 
Every  word  and  everything,"  said  Moleskin,  impressively. 

"  Stop !"  said  the  constable,  beckoning  Moleskin  to  a  corner. 
"All  this  here'll  be  irregular,  and,  I  may  say,  agen  the  law. 
Mr.  Bullfinch  is  not  in  the  King's  commission  and  confi- 
dence." 

"  No,  but  he  is  in  that  of  the  Marquis  and  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle, 
and,  unless  you  are  a  fool,  that  will  be  enough  for  you," 
returned  Moleskin. 

Parkins  assented,  but  not  with  a  good  grace. 

"  Have  you  made  any  further  discovery,  Parkins  ?"  said 
John  Bullfinch. 

"  Seeing  that  Tom  Scarlet  done  it,  there's  no  more  to  be 
made,  except  to  find  out  his  accomplices  and  pull  'eai  up,"  the 
constable  replied,  with  a  dark  look  at  May. 

They  then  turned  to  Stevens.  He  recapitulated  minutely 
all  that  he  remembered,  winding  up  with  the  declaration  that 
he  could  not  swear  to  anybody  as  having  struck  him,  but  was 
satisfied,  in  his  own  mind,  that  Tom  Scarlet  did  not.  Whether 
he  was  there  or  not  he  could  not  say. 

The  constable  flew  into  a  rage,  but  suddenly  cooled  down 
at  Moleskin's  stern  eye  and  the  hot  look  of  John  Bullfinch. 

"  I  have  a  great  opinion  of  the  practical  experience  and 
sagacity  of  Moleskin  in  matters  of  this  sort,"  said  John.  "  He 
has  made  a  discovery  and  a  suggestion " 

The  learned  constable  was  about  to  interrupt  and  protest 
against  this,  but  the  farmer  waved  him  aside  and  continued, 
authoritatively :  "  I  say,  a  discovery  which  is  important  and  a 
suggestion  which  is  wise." 

"  What's  the  discovery  ?  Never  mind  the  suggestion  !"  said 
the  little  man,  with  some  sarcasm. 


60  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  The  discovery  is,  that  Gypsy  Jack  is  in  this  neighborhood 
again,"  replied  Mr.  Bullfinch. 

The  constable  was  sorely  vexed.  Jack  in  his  old  haunts ; 
the  keeper  and  John  Bullfinch  with  knowledge  of  it ;  and  he, 
the  constable,  one  of  the  constituted  authorities,  with  a  char- 
acter for  craft  and  vigilance  at  stake,  in  entire  ignorance.  He 
looked  blankly  at  them  and  said,  "  He  shall  be  took  up  forth- 
with." 

"  A  bad  plan,"  said  the  keeper ;  "  there's  no  evidence  against 
him ;  nothing  to  hold  him  on." 

"  No,  none  at  all,"  Mr.  Bullfinch  continued,  "  but  Moleskin 
suggests  that,  under  the  circumstances,  he  is  sure  to  know 
more  or  less,  and  it  is  our  business  to  get  all  the  information 
we  can  out  of  him.  We  must  draw  for  Jack  as  hounds  draw 
a  cover,  for  he's  as  cunning  as  an  old  dog  fox." 

"  Of  course  he'll  tell  all  he  knows  when  you  question  him," 
said  the  ironical  constable.  "  But  it's  all  right ;  proceed  in 
your  own  way ;  and  when  you  have  got  his  story,  which  is  sure 
to  be  made  up  of  the  biggest  lies  he  can  think  of,  I'll  clap  in, 
and  conduct  the  cross-examination.  That's  the  only  good 
that'll  come  of  this  here  present  investigation.  But  where  is 
he,  and  is  the  gang  back  ?  the  dealers,  the  tinkers,  the  fellows 
that  sleep  all  day  and  rob  and  poach  all  night ;  and  the  for- 
tune-tfellers — be  they  back  with  him?" 

"  There  is  no  one  with  him  but  young  Ike,  and  he  is  at  the 
Barleymow,"  said  the  keeper. 

"  The  Barleymow  !  I  think  you  said  the  Barleymow  !"  ex- 
claimed the  indignant  constable.  "  Why,  this  is  one  of  the 
most  howdacious  doings  I  ever  heard  of.  Here  he  is,  instead 
of  hiding  in  a  hedge,  or  a  hovel,  put  up  like  a  gentleman  born 
at  the  best  cross-roads  inn  in  the  country,  slap  under  the  noses 
of  the  authorities !" 

"  That's  enough  !"  said  Moleskin,  taking  up  his  gun  ;  "  come 
along." 

The  committee  of  inquiry  proceeded  on  their  mission.  When 
they  reached  the  Barleymow  they  found  Gypsy  Jack  very  much 
at  his  ease.  He  was  sitting  on  the  horse-trough,  in  the  genial 
spring  sunshine,  entertaining  his  nephew  and  the  ostler  with 
what  must  have  been  a  facetious  story,  as  there  was  loud 
laughter  among  them.     At  the  approach  of  John  Bullfinch 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  61 

and  his  party,  the  keen  black  eyes  of  the  boy  lighted  up  with 
intelligence,  perhaps  with  glee.  Gypsy  Jack  was  more  wary. 
Without  looking  straight  at  the  new-comers,  he  made  a  sign  for 
the  lad  and  the  ostler  to  leave.  He  then  rose,  and  met  the 
farmer  of  Hawkwell  with  apparent  frankness  and  cordiality. 
He  flashed  a  side  look  upon  the  keeper,  and  then  met  his  gaze 
in  a  way  that  plainly  said,  "  Now,  you  know  me,  and  I  kno\7 
you.  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?"  The  constable 
was  regarded  with  a  stare  which  might  imply  surprise,  or 
might  indicate  contempt,  but  certainly  not  alarm.  The  gypsy's 
experience  in  various  matters  had,  indeed,  led  him  to  form  a 
rather  derogative  opinion  of  those  Parkins  commonly  called 
"  the  authorities,"  meaning  himself,  four  or  five  more  consta- 
bles and  tithiug-men,  and  as  many  beadles,  in  the  vicinity. 
There  was,  in  those  days,  no  rural  police.  Gypsy  Jack  sur- 
veyed the  constable  very  much  as  an  old  gray  badger  or  a 
wild-cat  might  look  upon  a  noisy  but  not  dangerous  little  dog 
in  a  wood.  At  a  word  from  Mr.  Bullfinch,  they  passed  into 
the  Barleymow,  a  large,  old-fashioned,  roadside  house,  full  of 
all  the  comforts  of  the  days  of  stage-coaches  and  post-chaises, 
and  were  shown  into  a  private  room.  The  gypsy,  sitting  oppo- 
site to  Mr.  Bullfinch,  looked  almost  constantly,  and  always 
confidently,  into  his  clear  blue  eyes.  He  took  no  notice  of 
Parkins,  and  very  little  of  the  solemn-looking  keeper.  Mr. 
Bullfinch  returned  the  gypsy's  gaze  with  some  unsteadiness, 
not  knowing  exactly  how  to  begin  to  "  draw  for  the  old  dog 
fox"  before  him.  He  said  something  about  the  "  good  of  the 
house,"  and  bad  weather,  and  ordered  gin-and-water  and  pipes. 
Bad  weather !  It  was  a  beautiful  day  in  spring.  The  sun 
shone  through  the  latticed  windows,  the  scent  of  the  violets 
rose  from  the  bank  under  the  hawthorn  hedge,  the  goldfinch 
sang  among  the  blossoms  of  the  plum  tree  to  his  nesting  mate, 
and  lambs  were  skipping  at  play  in  the  pasture  on  the  nearest 
hill.  The  gypsy's  eyes  twinkled,  and  the  constable  nodded 
approval,  as  the  waiting-maid  placed  the  liquor  and  pipes 
before  them.  Mr.  Bullfinch  lighted  his  pipe  with  almost 
Dutch  deliberation,  and  then  began  : 

"  You  remember  the  night  of  Aylesbury  fair.  Jack  ?" 

"  I've  had  no  call  to  forget  it,  sir,  as  I  know  of,"  replied  the 

gypsy. 


62  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  SometlnDg  happeDed  that  night,"  said  Mr.  Bullfiuch. 

"  Very  likely,"  said  Jack,  with  much  comjoosure;  "some- 
thiDg  commonly  does  happen  when  gentlemen  drink  much  of 
the  strong  brandy-aud-water  they  serve  at  the  Wheatsheaf,  and 
ride  home  late." 

"This  here's  prewarication,"  said  Parkins,  aside  to  the 
keeper. 

"  Moleskin's  man,  Stevens,  was  set  upon  that  night  in 
Wootton  woods,  beaten  within  an  inch  of  his  life,  his  skull 
fractured,  and  he  was  left  for  dead." 

"Well,  what  of  it?"  said  Gypsy  Jack,  with  a  bold  and 
steady  stare  at  the  yeoman. 

"  Plere's  a  villain  !"  said  the  constable  to  Moleskin. 

"  The  next  day,"  Mr.  Bullfinch  continued,  "  it  w^as  found 
that  you  had  left  the  neighborhood  ?" 

"  I  dare  say  it  w^as,  if  anybody  thought  it  worth  while  to  in- 
quire," said  the  gypsy.  "  I  don't  send  the  bellman  round  to 
tell  folks  when  I  am  going  to  change  camps,  and  I  went  off 
without  saying  good-by  to  Parkins  or  the  keeper.  I  had  busi- 
ness elsewhere." 

"  It  was  discovered  that  same  morning  that  Tom  Scarlet  had 
left  the  Grange,  and  he  has  not  been  seen  or  heard  of  since," 
said  John  Bullfinch. 

"  Yes,  he  has,"  said  Jack. 

"  By  whom  ?" 

"  By  me." 

"  Then  you're  the  chap  I  be  after  as  accomplice  and  acces- 
sory, both  before  and  after  the  fact,"  cried  Parkins. 

"  'Complice  in  what  ?" 

"  In  the  murder — the  attempt !  Come,  none  o'  your  non- 
sense.    This  may  turn  out  a  hanging  matter." 

"Hanging  be  d — d,"  said  the  gypsy,  with  contempt.  "The 
man  isn't  dead,  nor  likely  to  die ;  and  if  he  was  as  dead  as 
mutton,  I  could  prove  a  halibi  by  five  witnesses." 

"  What  sort  of  witnesses  ?  Your  gang  that  was  camped  at 
the  heath  won't  do,"  said  the  constable. 

"  I've  three  without  any  of  them  ;  and  here  sits  one,"  said 
the  gypsy,  pointing  to  Mr.  Bullfinch. 

"  It  is  mainly  as  he  says,"  remarked  Mr.  Bullfiuch.     "  Par- 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO'OTTON.  63 

kins,  be  quiet,  and  make  no  further  interruption.  Now,  Jack, 
where  did  you  see  Tom  Scarlet?" 

"  In  a  good  many  places." 

"  More  prewarication,"  murmured  the  outraged  constable. 

"  I  mean  the  last  time,"  said  the  yeoman. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  met  him  at  a  horse  fair  in  Lancashire  the  last 
time  I  saw  him." 

"  When  was  this,  Jack  ?" 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  be  able  to  remember  when  it  was 
until  I  find  out  what  is  to  come  of  all  this  cross-questioning," 
said  the  gypsy. 

"  Well,  well !  what  did  he  say  concerning  this  attack  upon 
Stevens?" 

"  Nothing  at  all.  I  believe  he  did  not  know  of  it.  He  had 
other  things  to  talk  about." 

"  Well,  you  knew  of  it,"  said  the  keeper  "  and  what  did  you 
say  about  it?" 

"Nothing  at  all.  It  isn't  such  a  wonderful  thing  for  a 
keeper's  man  to  have  his  head  broke,  that  people  should  pre- 
fer it  to  their  own  business  when  in  another  part  of  the  coun- 
try. He  isn't  the  first  that  has  had  a  crack  on  the  crown  in 
one  of  the  Marquis's  covers,  and  I  don't  believe  he'll  be  the 
last,"  said  the  gypsy. 

"  I  dare  say  he  will  not,"  the  keeper  remarked,  grimly. 

"I  think  there's  been  enough  said  about  Stevens,"  returned 
the  gypsy.  "  In  my  opinion  the  breaking  of  a  head  or  two  is 
a  very  trifling  matter." 

"  And  in  mine  it's  a  lagging  matter,  when  the  head  broke 
is  that  of  a  constable  in  the  execution  of  his  duty  or  a  keeper 
in  a  preserve,  watching  in  the  night  season,"  cried  the  irasci- 
ble constable.  "  For  why  ?  because  the  law  in  that  special 
case  made  and  provided — as  anybody  may  see  by  looking  into 
the  act — which  means  the  statute; — is  broke  too,  and  not  all 
the  currant  jelly  and  sherry  wine  that  May  Bullfinch  could 
furnish  gratis  in  a  twelvemonth  could  mend  tliat  again." 

"  Where  do  you  think  Tom  Scarlet  is  now.  Jack  ?"  said  the 
yeoman. 

"  Well,  sir,  if  the  wind  has  been  fair,  and  the  passage  any- 
thing like  good,  he  ought  to  be  very  near  the  coast  of  America 
by  this  time." 


64  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"America!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Bullfinch.  "What  should  he 
do  iu  America?     What  took  him  to  America?" 

"  Particular  business,"  replied  the  gypsy. 

"Which,"  iuterposed  the  irate  constable,  "is  the  case  with 
all  of  'em.  The  particular  business  of  nine  out  of  ten  that 
cuts  away  from  this  country  to  that  is  to  defeat  the  authorities 
and  avoid  the  service  of  a  little  docyment  running  in  the  name 
of  our  Suverin  Lord  the  King," 

"  What  is  this  particular  business,  Jack  ?"  said  the  farmer. 

"  I  can't  say — that  is,  I  won't  say.  It  is  private,  but  no 
harm,"  replied  the  gypsy. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that.  Private  and  sudden  business 
never  took  me  over  sea,"  said  John. 

"  No,  nor  never  will,  sir !"  exclaimed  the  admiring  consta- 
ble. "  Forty  years  and  more  have  I  knowed  you,  and  you 
never  cut  away  for  fear  of  a  little  docyment  proceeding  iu  the 
name  of  our  Suverin  Lord  the  King.  Hows'ever,  there'll  be 
no  splitting  on  the  part  of  this  here — party.  You  may  believe 
as  much  of  what  he  says  as  you  like,  but  he  won't  gammon 
me — I  ain't  to  be  gammoned." 

With  this  the  astute  constable  walked  out  of  the  room.  Mr. 
Bullfinch  and  the  keeper,  finding  they  could  make  nothing 
of  the  gypsy,  soon  followed. 

The  constable  surveyed  the  front  of  the  house.  Thence  "he 
went  into  the  garden  bowers,  among  the  bees  and  spring 
flowers.  With  some  rem.arks  upon  the  wisdom  of  the  busy 
bee,  and  an  allusion  to  the  properties  of  honey,  he  took  a  seat 
which  commanded  a  view  of  the  back  door,  and  soliloquized : 

"  The  reward  is  sure  to  be  liberal,  and  it  will  be  all  my  own 
— no  going  halves.  The  keeper  and  him  (meaning  Mr.  Bull- 
finch) can  have  no  claim ;  for,  though  they  knew  the  gypsy 
was  here,  they  haven't  suspected,  up  to  this  time,  what  he's 
been  up  to.  It  took  my  experience  and  penetration  to  find 
that  out." 

He  rose,  went  to  the  front  of  the  house  again  and  took  a 
seat  on  the  horseblock.  Mr.  Bullfinch  and  the  keeper  ap- 
proached.  Parkins,  regarding  them  with  an  air  of  profound 
mystery,  said  in  a  guarded  tone : 

"  Gypsy  Jack  must  be  took  up.  I'm  going  to  pull  him  here 
and  now,  and  may  want  your  help." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  65 

"  Nonsense !  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  said  John. 
"  Perhaps  not  with  the  Stevens  case,  but  how  about  a  higher 
crime  ?     Murder  will  out !     That  is,  when  there's  a  certain 
sort  of  man  to  find  it  out." 

"  What  murder  do  you  mean  ?"  said  John. 
"Hush!  speak  lower!  The  murder  of  Tom  Scarlet.  I 
have  hit  upon  the  key  to  the  whole  business,  and  it's  as  clear 
as  day.  The  gypsy's  cock-and-bull  stories  about  horse  fairs, 
business  over  the  water,  and  what  not,  don't  gammon  me.  I 
ain't  to  be  gammoned !  Tom  Scarlet  has  been  made  away 
with,  most  likely  by  hocussing  and  burking.  His  body,  sold 
to  the  resurrection  men,  has  been  biled  by  this  time.  Jack 
was  one  of  the  principals,  and  he  must  be  took  up." 

This  prompt  and  positive  recital  of  horrors  made  Mr.  Bull- 
finch open  his  blue  eyes  to  the  widest  possible  extent. 
"  What  evidence  is  there?"  he  asked. 

"  Plenty,  as  I'll  show  when  he's  collared  and  handcuffed, 
and  has  no  chance  to  cut  away  and  get  shet  of  the  watch  and 
other  vallybles  taken  from  the  murdered  man.  I  hope  we 
shall  be  able  to  find  the  body — that  is,  the  skeleton  ;  for  if 
we  don't,  the  counsel  as  defends  this  here  villain  will  pretend 
that  there's  no  corpus  delicti — cor2Jus  delicti  !  Mr.  Bullfinch," 
added  the  learned  constable,  "  the  legal  meaning  of  which  I 
will  explain  some  other  time,  if  convenient." 

"If  there  is  plenty  of  evidence,  let  us  hear  a  little  of  it,"  said 
the  keeper,  in  his  dry,  matter-of-fact  manner. 

"  Well,  what  be  the  facts  to  one  used  to  such  investigations  ? 
In  the  first  place,  this  gypsy  bears  a  noted  bad  character — a 
shocking  bad  character !  He's  up  to  all  sorts  of  games  against 
the  law,  and  has  no  respect  for  the  authorities.  He  meets  Tom. 
Scarlet  in  some  out-of-the-way  place.  The  young  man  has  a 
large  amount  of  money  about  him — it  was  his  habit  to  carry 
a  deal  of  gold." 

"  By  George,  Moleskin,  that's  true !"  exclaimed  John  Bull- 
finch. 

"  Not  so  loud — not  so  loud !"  said  the  watchful  constable. 
"  He  pretends  to  be  cutting  a  stick  out  of  the  hedge  yonder, 
but's  he's  really  a-listeniug  to  us,  and  can  hear  half  a  mile  or 
thereabouts.  Now,  you  can  swear  to  Tom's  carrying  the  gold 
yourself,  Mr.  Bullfinch.  You  can  prove  that." 
5 


66  TEE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N. 

"  I  can  swear  to  the  habit,  but  not  to  the  fact,  in  this  in- 
stance," said  John. 

"  It's  all  one  for  that.  The  fact  is  to  be  inferred  from  the 
habit,  and  so  the  counsel  for  the  Crown  will  say,  when  this 
here  amazing  and  celebrated  case  comes  to  be  tried.  Besides, 
Tom  left  but  little  money  at  the  Grange,  you  say,  and  you 
don't  think  his  men  have  robbed  the  bureau,  do  you?" 

"  No,"  said  John  Bulllinch,  "  they  are  honest  lads — 1  know 
them  well." 

"  He  always  used  to  keep  a  deal  of  money  in  gold  and 
notes,"  said  the  constable,  "  and  the  old  house  would  have  been 
robbed  over  and  over  again  only  for  his  name  as  a  dare-devil 
and  the  knowledge  of  double-barrelled  guns  and  pistols  all 
over  the  premises,  to  say  nothing  of  bull-dogs  and  bloodhounds. 
Housebreakers,  Mr.  Bullfinch,  picks  their  customers,  just  as 
you  picks  the  easy  places  to  ride  at  in  a  hard  run." 

"  Go  on  with  your  evidence,"  said  the  sententious  keeper. 
"  The  caps  have  snapped  every  time  you've  pulled  the  trigger 
so'  far.  Come  to  the  point.  Didn't  I  hear  you  say  the  gypsy 
had  Tom  Scarlet's  watch  ?" 

"  I  said,  '  No  doubt  he  had  ;'  and  I  say  it  again.  Let  him 
be  took  up,  and  you'll  see,"  replied  the  constable. 

"  No  go !"  said  the  keeper.  "  It's  all  just  like  the  castles 
children  build  with  cards — take  one  away,  and  down  come  all 
the  rest.  As  for  Tom  Scarlet,  I  believe  him  to  be  alive  and 
well  this  minute,  and,  as  the  gypsy  says,  gone  abroad  on  some 
sort  of  a  wild-goose  chase  that  very  few  men  would  under- 
take." 

"  I'll  see  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  about  this,"  said  John  Bullfinch. 
"  He's  a  great  hand  to  puzzle  out  a  faint  scent  and  hit  off  the 
true  hunting  line." 

The  constable  heard  Moleskin's  remarks  and  the  yeoman's 
resolution  with  much  disgust. 

"  Assault  with  intent  to  kill  committed,"  said  he  to  himself. 
"  Murder  as  good  as  proved,  and  nobody  took  up  !  while  one 
of  the  principals  is  swaggering  about  like  a  lord  in  the  land, 
and  regularly  gammoning  everybody  but  me.  This  comes  of 
the  interference  of  farmers,  keepers  and  the  like  with  the  real 
authorities." 


TEE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  67 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"Then  came  faire  May,  the  fayrest  mayd  on  ground, 

Deckt  with  all  dainties  of  her  season's  pryde, 
And  throwing  flowers  out  of  her  lap  around; 

Upon  two  brethren's  shoulders  she  did  ride, 
The  twinnes  of  Leda;  which  on  either  side 

Supported  her,  like  to  their  soveraine  queene. 
Lord !  how  all  creatures  laughi  when  her  they  spide. 

And  leapt  and  daunc't  as  they  had  ravished  beene, 
And  Cupid's  selfe  about  her  fluttered  all  in  greene." 

THE  namesake  of  the  nymph,  who  rode  upon  arms  of  Leda's 
twins,  was  not  in  higli  favor  with  society  in  and  about 
VTootton  and  Kidingcumstoke,  when  the  latter  scattered  her 
flowers  and  threw  around  her  sweets.  May  Bullfinch  had 
displeased  many  of  those  who  had  constituted  themselves  the 
inquisitors  and  censors  of  other  people's  conduct.  If  any  one 
wants  to  incur  the  resentment  of  his  neighbors,  let  him  deny 
some  proposition  they  have  laid  down  as  a  truth.  Let  him 
have  the  hardihood  to  withstand  "  public  sentiment"  and  in- 
sist upon  holding  his  ow^n  opinions.  This  May  Bullfinch  had 
done  by  refusing  to  listen  to  those  charges  against  Tom  Scarlet, 
which  had  been  proclaimed  and  enlarged  upon  ovei*  almost 
every  tea-table  in  the  riding.  In  spite  of  his  loose  reputation, 
which  had  been  fired  at  her  a  thousand  times,  point-blank,  by 
all  the  gossips  of  her  own  sex ;  in  spite  of  his  sudden  depart- 
ure, just  at  the  time  of  the  assault  upon  the  under-keeper ;  in 
spite  of  his  continued  absence,  of  his  silence,  and  of  the  fact 
that  Miriam  Cotswold  had  also  disappeared  and  still  remained 
away,  May's  faith  had  never  wavered.  With  a  spirit  like 
that  of  the  old  knightly  challengers,  she  maintained  his  inno- 
cence and  defied  all  comers.  She  was  argued  with,  but  not 
shaken  in  her  belief  and  trust ;  she  was  coaxed,  but  it  was  of 
no  avail ;  she  was  scolded,  and  she  laughed  at  invectives.  At 
last  the  old  ladies  gave  her  up  as  "  past  praying  for,"  pro- 
nounced her  a  very  suitable  match  for  Scarlet  himself,  and 
fell  to  pitying  the  blindness  and  weakness  of  the  stupid  man, 
her  father.     The  farmer  had  held  several  interviews  with  Sir 


68  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

Jerry  Snaffle,  but  the  baronet,  after  much  beating  about  the 
bush,  had  confessed  that  he  was  unable  to  hit  off  the  scent. 
Youno:  Jack  was  altoojether  of  his  "sister's  mind,  and  Parkins 
was  in  doubt  whether  the  boy  was  "  gammoned"  by  his  sister, 
or  was  trying  to  gammon  other  people  within  the  metes  and 
bounds  of  Ridingcumstoke.  Another  staunch  friend  of  Tom 
Scarlet  was  the  busy  and  influential  landlady,  Mrs.  Hickman, 
of  the  Wheatsheaf  The  good  lady,  with  her  daughter,  pretty 
Mary,  had  driven  over  to  Hawkwell  in  her  gig,  and  held 
counsel  with  May  Bullfinch.  She  knew  Tom  Scarlet  and 
Gypsy  Jack  well,  and  assured  May  that  Tom  would  come  out 
all  right  in  the  end.  She  also  knew  Parkins  well,  and  told 
May  that  he  was  a  fool,  a  "  tippling,  conceited  fool  of  a  man, 
who  ought  to  be  ducked  in  a  horse-pond  ;  and  she  had  a  great 
mind  to  have  it  done."  May  thought  so,  too,  and  parted  from 
Mrs.  Hickman  much  comforted. 

Old  Winter  now  had  fled  in  perfect  rout  before  the  front  of 
brisk  and  lusty  Spring.  The  fields  were  green  with  grass  and 
growing  crops,  the  trees  thick  with  expanding  leaves,  the 
hedges  whitely  powdered  with  the  fragrant  May,  the  cluster- 
ing blossoms  of  the  hardy  hawthorn  ;  and  here  and  there  were 
warm  tints  of  buds  of  the  crab,  and  the  blush  of  the  wild  rose 
bedecked  the  bending  briar.  The  cowslip,  the  crocus  and  the 
daisy  spangled  the  smooth  pastures.  Under  the  trees  of  the 
copse  the  delicate  primrose  bloomed ;  over  the  thriving  wheat 
fields  cloud  and  sunshine  and  the  vernal  breezes  chased  each 
other.  So  looked  the  Vale  of  Aylesbury  as  John  Bullfinch, 
with  his  daughter  and  son,  rode  along  it,  on  a  bright  May 
morn,  to  Gosford  races.  It  was  an  annual  event,  and  one  of 
moment.  John  could  never  remember  that  there  had  been  a 
race  meeting  at  Gosford  at  which  he  was  not  present.  The 
races,  perhaps,  might  have  been  brought  off'  without  him  and 
Sir  Jerry  Snaffle,  but  it  may  be  doubted.  The  farmer  rode 
Black  Hearty.  On  one  hand  May  was  upon  Cowslip ;  on  the 
other,  Young  Jack  upon  Young  Cowslip.  Nature  was  in  a 
merry  mood.  Up,  up!  the  lark  towered  up,  and  sang  as 
though  he  would  pour  out  his  very  life  aloft  in  melody.  They 
heard  the  cuckoo  on  the  hill,  the  golden-fluted  blackbird  in 
the  hedge,  and  deep  in  wood  and  grove  swelled  the  many 
varied  carols  and  wild  notes  of  the  thrush.    They  lingered  on 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  69 

the  way,  John  Bullfinch  and  his  daugther  May,  content  to  enjoy 
so  fine  a  morning  and  so  fair  a  scene.  But  this  sort  of  thing 
was  far  from  suiting  Young  Jack.  It  was  a  race  morn- 
ing, the  occasion  was  momentous,  and  he  was  fiery  hot  with 
haste. 

The  little  jockey  boots,  the  white  buckskin  breeches,  and 
the  jacket  of  violet  silk  under  his  loose  coat  indicated  that 
Young  Jack  would  take  a  prominent  part  when  the  proceed- 
ings on  the  heath  began.  He  was,  indeed,  to  ride  a  certain 
thoroughbred  pony  called  Maid  of  the  Vale,  in  the  Ladies' 
Cup,  two  miles,  for  ponies  not  more  than  fourteen  hands  high. 
Three  times  before  he  had  ridden  the  little  mare  to  victory, 
but  never  in  a  race  of  so  much  interest  and  importance  as  the 
one  about  to  come  ofi*.  Her  chief  antagonist  would  be  a 
famous  brown  pony,  with  a  bald  face,  a  noted  runner,  brought 
on  from  Whittlebury  Forest.  He  was  the  joint  property  of  a 
gypsy  and  a  dealer  in  bridles  and  whips,  an  immense  fat  man, 
twice  as  big  as  his  own  horse.  This  pony.  Creeping  Joe,  had 
won  many  races,  and  had  furnished  occasion  for  frequent  quar- 
rels and  one  or  two  fights  between  the  worthies  who  owned 
him,  the  gypsy  and  the  fat  man.  In  the  altercations  the  fat 
man  generally  had  the  best  of  it,  for  he  was  exceedingly  loud 
and  voluble  ;  but  in  the  fights  the  strategy  of  the  gypsy  pre- 
vailed. He  lowered  his  head,  and  by  butting  his  antagonist 
in  the  pit  of  the  stomach  reduced  him  to  mere  helplessness. 
This  gypsy  was  a  crony  of  Gypsy  Jack's,  through  whose  sug- 
gestions Creeping  Joe  had  been  brought  up  to  Gosford  Heath 
to  run  against  Maid  of  the  Vale  for  the  Ladies'  Cup. 

"  We  shall  be  late.  I  know  we  shall  be  late,  and  Mr.  Bird- 
bolt  will  be  waiting.  Put  Hearty  to  a  canter,  father,  and  let 
May  send  Cowslip  along  a  bit.  I  declare  that  many  people 
would  go  faster  to  a  funeral  than  we  are  going  to  Gosford 
Green  on  the  race  morning,"  said  Young  Jack. 

"  And  I  shouldn't  blame  'em,  if  the  funeral  was  that  of  some 
boys,"  said  his  father.  "  You'll  go  fast  enough  before  the  day 
is  over,  if  you  beat  Creeping  Joe,  for  he  is  a  nailer.  Between 
the  gypsies,  the  big  fellow  and  Young  Ike,  they  have  got  him 
in  rare  condition,  I  am  told." 

"  So  much  the  more  reason  that  I  should  be  with  the  mare, 
to  see  how  she  feels  and  have  another  consultation  with  Jim. 


70  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

But,  father,  do  you  really  think  that  Creeping  Joe  can  outrun 
the  Maid  ?" 

*'  I've  no  doubt  of  it,  and  you  must  depend  on  her  bottom. 
Now,  the  way  to  ride  this  race  is  to  go  along  for  a  mile  at 
a " 

"  Ah !  I  know  all  about  that.  I  talked  it  over  with  Mr. 
Kansome,  from  Lord  Jersey's,  at  the  Barleymow,  and  we  came 
to  the  conclusion  to  make  the  running  strong.  Now  let  us 
make  a  little  running  here,"  said  Jack. 

"We'll  just  jog  along  as  we  are  doing.  I  see  Sir  Jerry 
Snaffle's  chariot  in  front,  and  I  won't  pass  him  and  her  lady- 
ship, if  we  never  get  there,"  said  John. 

"  Then  all  I  can  say  is,  that  I  wish  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  would 
go  a  little  faster,""  said  Jack,  with  some  discontent. 

"  Sir  Jerry,  sir,"  said  John  Bullfinch,  "  has  a  right  to  make 
the  pace  as  fast  or  as  slow  as  he  pleases.  Why,  when  I  was 
a  boy  I  should  no  more  have  thought  of  passing  Sir  Jerry's 
father  on  the  road,  than  I  should  have  thought  of  flying. 
But  times  have  sadly  changed — butcher  boys  spatter  the  mud 
over  gentlemen's  carriages,  and  gypsies  go  spurring  by  the 
best  in  the  land." 

This  last  observation  was  drawn  out  by  the  fact  that  the 
young  gypsy,  Ike,  who  was  to  ride  Creeping  Joe,  had  just 
turned  out  of  a  green  lane  in  front,  on  his  uncle's  galloway, 
and  dashed  by  Sir  Jerry's  carriage,  as  if  he  was  nobody. 
Half  an  hour  brought  John  Bullfinch  to  the  front  of  a  small 
but  elegant  domain  on  Gosford  Green.  It  was  the  residence 
of  Mr.  Birdbolt,  a  short,  stout  old  bachelor,  hot  in  disposition 
and  hearty  in  manner,  with  white  hair  and  a  face  as  red  as  a 
beefsteak.  He  was  a  great  connoisseur  in  flowers,  singing- 
birds  and  racing  ponies ;  owned  Maid  of  the  Yale  and  often 
declared  that  he  wouldn't  swap  her  for  any  sixteen-hand  horse 
in  the  Kingdom.  He  now  rushed  through  the  front  garden, 
and  assisting  May  to  alight,  kissed  her  on  the  cheek.  "  Beau- 
tiful, beautiful !"  said  the  old  man,  holding  her  at  arm's  length. 

"  Yes,  the  month  for  singing-birds  and  flowers — the  spring 
flowers !"  said  May. 

"  Ay,  you  charming  rogue,  for  bullfinches  and  roses.  But 
come  in  to  lunch,  and  then  I'll  show  you  the  nesting  gold- 
finches and  canaries,"  said  Mr.  Birdbolt. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO K  71 

"  Never  mind  them  to-day,  sir,"  cried  Young  Jack ;  "  any- 
day  will  do  for  them.  This  is  the  mare's  day.  What  I  want 
to  know  is " 

"  Confound  the  boy  !  What  do  you  mean  by  interrupting 
a  gentleman  at  his  own  house  ?"  said  his  father.  "  If  I  was 
Mr.  Birdbolt,  I  think  I'd  make  you  strip  those  colors  off,  and 
get  another  rider.  Still,"  he  continued,  "  I  should  like  to  look 
at  the  mare  myself  before  we  lunch,  for  on  a  racing  morning 
the  less  we  have  to  do  with  birds  the  better,  unless  it  be  car- 
rier-pigeons, to  instruct  friends  in  London  how  to  put  the 
money  on." 

"  There  are  cold  fowls  and  tongue  already  on  the  table," 
said  Mr.  Birdbolt. 

"  They  won't  fly  away  while  we  look  at  the  mare.  Come 
along !"  cried  Young  Jack. 

They  found  the  stable  door  locked,  and  the  key  in  charge  of 
a  short,  bony  man  of  fifty,  who  had  once  been  a  jockey,  and 
was  now  trainer  to  Mr.  Birdbolt's  ponies,  in  which  weighty 
affairs  his  chief  counsellor  and  adviser  had  usually  been  Tom 
Scarlet.  The  man  was  somewhat  hoarse  and  at  first  so  grave 
and  taciturn  that  you  would  have  thought  something  ill  had 
certainly  befallen  the  mare. 

"  All  right,  eh,  Jim  ?"  said  Mr,  Bullfinch. 

"  Yes,  yes !  she's  tol'able  well,"  replied  the  trainer. 

"  Good  at  her  feed,  and  pulls  up  well  after  her  gallops  ?" 
said  John. 

"  Yes — yes !  she's  eat  what  I  gave  her,  and  she's  took  her 
work,  but " 

"  But !  what  d'ye^  mean  by  but  ?  You  don't  mean  to  say 
that  she's  amiss  in  any  way  ?"  cried  Mr.  Bullfinch. 

"  Why,  no.  Not  exactly  amiss,  but  she's  had  a  good  deal 
easier  races ;  and  if  Tom  Scarlet  was  here,  just  to  look  her 
over  and  advise  young  master  how  to  ride  it,  I  should  be 
easier  in  my  mind.     However,  you  look  her  over  yourself." 

With  this,  he  threw  open  the  door  of  the  box,  and  there 
stood  Maid  of  the  Vale,  with  her  muzzle  on,  ready  for  her 
war  paint.  She  was  a  pony,  but  with  all  the  length  and  elegant 
proportions  of  a  thoroughbred  horse  of  high  quality.  A  rich 
bay,  long  and  low,  with  a  glowing  coat,  full,  meaning  eye  and 
broad  forehead — a  mare  well  worthy  of  some  of  her  ancestors, 


72  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

who,  stouter  than  the  sailors  and  men-at-arms  of  Spain, 
breasted  the  billows  of  the  stormy  Channel,  and  swam  ashore 
from  the  wrecks  of  the  Armada.  She  answered  May's  ca- 
resses, and  looking  round  at  the  visitors,  as  if  to  collect  their 
sentiments,  seemed  to  know  that  her  time  had  come  again — 
that  Young  Jack  was  there  to  take  her  to  another  struggle. 

"  She's  fit !  She's  up  to  the  mark.  We  shall  win  it,  Jim — 
I  know  we  shall  win  it,"  said  Young  Jack. 

"  And  I  know  we  shan't,  if  you  underrate  your  adversary," 
returned  his  father.  "  Of  all  the  perilous  and  fatal  errors 
made  in  regard  to  racers,  boxers,  and  the  like,  there  is  none 
worse  than  underestimating  those  who  are  to  oppose  you.  I've 
seen  it  proved  a  hundred  times.  Look  at  Old  Dutch  Sam,  the 
winner  of  a  hundred  fights,  and  licked  at  last  by  a  journey- 
man baker !  Look  at  Jem  Belcher,  never  beaten  until  he  un- 
derrated his  own  pupil,  the  Game  Chicken  !" 

"  Ay,"  said  the  trainer,  "  but  I  have  always  heard  that  Bel- 
cher would  have  won  the  fight,  only  he  had  lost  an  eye  a  short 
time  before,  playing  at  rackets,  and  Pierce  got  in  on  the  blind 
side  of  him.  It's  always  been  the  belief  in  the  racing  stables 
that  Jem  would  have  won  if  he  had  had  two  eyes." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Mr.  Bullfinch,  with  a  sigh,  "  but  I  have 
heard  competent  judges  say — I  didn't  see  the  fight  myself — 
that  he  couldn't  have  beaten  Pierce  on  that  day  if  he  had  had 
four  eyes.  But  he  was  a  great  man — a  very  great  man  was 
Jem  Belcher  !  The  best  in  my  time,  or  any  other  time,  for 
that  matter.      There's  no  such  men  nowadays." 

"  Well,  never  mind  him  now,"  said  Youug  Jack ;  "  it's  a  race 
and  not  a  prize-fight  that's  going  to  come  ofi'." 

"  In  regard  to  the  race,"  said  Mr.  Bullfinch,  "  much  depends 
upon  the  riding  of  it.  You  have  had  but  a  limited  experi- 
ence.    Now,  I  could  have  got  a  boy  from  John  Day's " 

"  I  don't  like  them  Days,"  said  the  trainer  gruffly  and  posi- 
tively. "  They  call  old  John  *  Honest  John,'  and,  to  my  mind, 
it  is  because  he's  the  d — dest  rascal  in  all  England." 

"  Well,  well,  let  it  pass !  No  boy  from  John  Day's  is  here, 
and  Jack  is  to  ride — my  son  is  to  ride.  Now  the  mare,  though 
perhaps  not  as  fast,  is  better  bred  than  Creepiug  Joe,  and  the 
way  to  win  is  to  come  away  and  make  running." 

"From  the  start!  right  from  the  start,"  said  Mr.  Birdbolt. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  73 

"  And  so  diminish  Creeping  Joe's  speed  before  it  comes  to 
the  finish,"  said  May. 

"  Now,  this  is  all  wrong,"  said  Jack,  expostulating.  «  You 
all  talk  as  if  you  had  made  a  grand  discovery,  when  Tom 
Scarlet  and  I  and  Jim  have  always  known  that  the  little  mare's 
strong  point  is  her  ability  to  stick  over  a  long  course.  I  don't 
want  instructions  as  to  that  matter.  I've  ridden  her  before 
without  instructions  of  that  sort — eh,  Jim  ?" 

"Ay,  and  against  instructions,  and  won,  too,"  said  the 
trainer,  "  for  at  Cotesford  Mr.  Bullfinch  said, '  Wait  and  win,' 
and  the  guvner  said,  '  Nail  'em  on  the  post '  but  Tom  Scarlet 
and  you  and  I  said,  '  If  we  wait  for  them  big  horses  they'll 
outstride  her  at  last,  with  all  their  weight ;  so  we'll  just  go 
along  and  keep  'em  moving  all  the  w  ay.'  " 

"  That  was  it — precisely  it !"  said  Young  Jack,  as  his  father 
and  Mr.  Birdbolt  began  to  retreat.     "  I  cut  out  the  running." 

"  And  kept  the  pace  good,"  cried  May. 

"  And  won  in  a  walk,"  hallooed  the  trainer,  whereat  John 
Bullfinch  and  Mr.  Birdbolt  quickened  their  pace  towards  the 
house. 

This  matter  at  Cotesford  had  long  been  rather  a  sore  sub- 
ject to  treat  upon  before  John  Bullfinch  and  Mr.  Birdbolt, 
and  for  that  reason  it  was  to  the  trainer,  like  a  long  suit  at 
whist — ^he  never  neglected  an  opportunity  "  to  bring  it  in." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

She  was  not  foaled  on  the  Northern  wold, 

But  dropped  in  the  lap  of  the  midland  vale; 
And  the  gypsy  there,  with  the  coal-black  hair. 
And  the  eye  well  read  in  the  fates,  they  said. 
Told  them  next  morn  of  the  time,  and  tale. 

TT  could  hardly  be  averred  that  John  Bullfinch  took  as 
-*-  much  interest  in  the  plates  and  stakes  run  for  at  the  rural 
meetings  near  the  Vale  of  Aylesbury  as  he  did  in  the  grand 
event  which  came  off"  at  Newmarket,  Epsom  and  Doncaster, 
but  it  is  very  likely  that  they  afibrded  him  as  much   enjoy- 


74  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

ment.  In  a  certain  sense  he  \vas  of  the  upper  circle,  the  inner 
ring  of  a  great  section  of  the  turf.  He  had  for  years  been 
intimate  \vith  Mr.  Ransome,  a  sort  of  JNIaster  of  the  Horse  at 
Middleton,  the  favorite  seat  of  the  great  racing  magnate  of 
that  age,  Lord  Jersey.  All  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle's  racing  doings 
and  secrets  were  confided  to  John  Bullfinch.  With  the  Days 
he  had  long  been  friendly.  With  Will  and  young  Sam  Chiff- 
ney  he  was  hand  and  glove.  Isaac  Sadler  had  great  respect 
for  him,  the  more  so,  that  John  always  had  a  balance  at  his 
banker's,  and  Mr.  Sadler  sometimes  had  none.  It  was  not 
likely  that  one  who  had  discussed  with  Kansome  the  merits 
of  Cobweb,  Middleton,  Mameluke,  Glenartney  and  Glencoe, 
with  the  Chifiheys  the  memorable  triumphs  of  Zinganee  and 
Priam,  and  with  Sadler  the  glorious  doings  of  Defence  and 
Dangerous,  should  prefer  hunters'  plates  and  pony  stakes  to 
the  national  events.  John's  hat  had  been  thrown  up  too 
often  after  the  great  turf  victories  of  Lord  Jersey,  Sir  Jerry, 
the  Chiflneys  and  Isaac  Sadler  for  that.  It  was  a  truth,  how- 
ever, that  after  a  race  of  heats  at  the  country  meetings,  in 
which  the  struggle  had  been  long  and  close,  John's  satisfaction 
was  intense.  The  trainer,  the  jockey,  and  the  owner  of  the 
winner  always  received  his  congratulations  in  the  order  named. 
In  the  great  steeple-chases,  for  which  the  beautiful  Vale  of 
Aylesbury  was  then  famous — real  cross-country  contests,  quite 
unlike  those  over  the  artihcial  courses  of  the  present  day — 
John  was  in  his  glory.  A  bold  and  skilful  rider  and  a  fine 
judge  of  that  rare  animal,  the  weight-carrying  hunter,  Mr. 
Bullfinch  felt  himself  on  solid  ground  when  steeple-chasing 
was  in  order.  Concerning  the  Derby,  the  St.  Leger,  the  Ascot 
Cup,  and  so  forth,  he  was  never  very  confident,  but  inclined 
to  listen  to  the  suggestions  of  his  friends  Ransome,  Edwards, 
the  Chiffueys,  the  Days,  Robinson,  Isaac  Sadler,  &c.  None 
of  these  great  men  attended  the  little  meetings  of  Gosford 
Green,  save  Ransome  and  Sadler.  The  latter  commonly  had 
horses  to  run,  and  at  such  places  they  were  generally  coarse- 
looking  creatures,  sometimes  string-halted  or  knuckled  behind, 
almost  always  running  in  bandages,  and  quite  always  set  down 
by  Ransome  in  his  own  mind  as  "  dangerous."  He  might 
know  nothing  at  all  about  them,  but  his  theory  was,  "  Isaac 
Sadler  knows  precisely  what  sort  of  a  horse  to  bring  here." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  75 

As  our  party  cantered  along  from  Mr.  Birdbolt's  to  the 
heath,  the  scene  was  highly  animating.  Scores  of  farmers  on 
horseback,  and  their  wives  and  daughters  in  gigs  and  carriages, 
were  on  the  road.  Now  and  then  a  barouche,  bearing  from 
the  country  mansions  fair  dames  and  damsels,  bright  with  rich 
colors,  and  with  ribbons  gay,  went  rolling  by.  On  either  hand 
there  was  a  continuous  crowd  of  country  folks  a-foot.  Sturdy 
men  in  smock  frocks  and  leather  gaiters ;  young  fellows  in 
velveteen  coats,  upon  whom  the  recruiting  sergeant  cast  a 
longing  eye.  Lads  and  lasses,  ruddy  and  dusty ;  troops  of 
children  with  May  garlands  in  their  nut-brown  hands,  and  no 
fear  whatever  of  the  beadle  before  their  eyes.  It  was  always 
a  general  holiday.  On  the  heath,  scattered  over  the  open 
sward  among  the  gorse,  and  as  near  to  the  course  as  might  be, 
were  booths,  from  which  the  clamor  of  voices,  the  scraping  of 
fiddles,  and  the  sound  of  tabor  and  pipe,  were  already  audi- 
ble. The  thimble-rig,  and  other  games  of  skill  and  chance, 
were  going  on,  in  nooks  and  corners,  among  the  bushes.  About 
the  vehicles,  drawn  up  on  each  side  of  the  roped  run-in,  there 
was  Punch  and  Judy  ;  and  the  hoarse  bawling  of  ballad-singers 
was  almost  loud  enough  to  drown  the  voices  of  the  gypsy  girls, 
crying,  "  The  correct  card  of  the  races,  with  all  the  running 
horses,  and  the  weights,  names,  and  colors  of  the  riders !" 

John  Bullfinch  and  Mr.  Birdbolt  were  recognised  on  every 
hand.  The  latter  was  now  as  hot  and  earnest  as  Young  Jack 
himself  May  was  the  cynosure  of  many  eyes,  as  she  sat  on 
Cowslip  with  admirable  ease  and  grace,  bowing  right  and  left  to 
the  compliments  showered  upon  her.  Soon  she  became  aware 
of  the  near  presence  of  Gypsy  Jack,  who,  with  a  companion, 
was  intently  regarding  her  from  a  short  distance.  The  gypsy's 
companion  was  a  man  of  thirty,  much  scarred  from  small- 
pox, sinewy  and  long-armed,  dressed  as  a  sailor.  It  seemed  as 
though  they  had  something  to  tell  May  or  her  father,  for  after 
exchanging  some  words  together,  the  sailor  nodded  to  the 
gypsy,  and  the  latter  made  three  or  four  steps  towards  her. 
But  just  then  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  rode  up  on  a  gray  gelding,  and 
paid  such  a  compliment  to  May  that  she  blushed  and  looked 
down.  When  she  raised  her  head  again,  the  gypsy  and  the 
sailor  were  gone.  Sir  Jerry,  a  tall,  florid  man,  with  reddish- 
brown  whiskers,  bushy  as  the  brush  of  a  fox,  was  one  of  the 


76  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

stewards — iu  fact,  the  leading  man  of  the  meeting.  After  a  few 
words  with  John  Bullfinch,  he  mentioned  Lady  Snaffle's  wish 
that  her  goddaughter,  May,  should  join  her  in  the  carriage. 
Dismounting  and  throwing  his  reins  to  a  groom,  the  baronet 
assisted  her  to  alight  and  conducted  her  to  his  wife's  chariot. 
Lady  Snaffle  was  a  little  stout,  fresh  and  fair,  with  a  merry 
eye,  a  rich,  joyous  voice,  and  a  kind  heart.  She  was  the  only 
daughter  of  a  fine  old  Admiral,  who  had  fought  at  the  Nile 
and  Trafalgar  and  scores  of  other  places.  He  had  come  inland 
at  last,  bringing  with  him  the  rustle  of  reefing  breezes  and  the 
rich  flavor  of  the  combing  seas  of  the  main  ocean.  Lady  Snaffle 
had  no  children.  During  the  lifetime  of  John  Bullfinch's  wife, 
a  quiet,  ladylike,  superior  woman,  she  had  often  called  at 
Hawkwell,  and  thus  it  was  that  she  was  godmother  to  May. 
After  the  death  of  Mrs.  Bullfinch,  when  John  took  his  chil- 
dren to  the  Hall  and  presented  the  little  girl,  in  her  deep 
mourning,  to  Lady  Snaffle,  the  lady  clasped  her  to  her  heart 
and  vowed  that  she  would  be  a  second  mother  to  her.  This 
was  a  source  of  great  relief  to  Sir  Jerry,  who  hated  sadness 
and  sorrow,  and  whose  well-meant  endeavors  to  console  the 
widower  had,  somehow  or  another,  failed.  His  exhortations 
to  John  to  "  cheer  up"  had  been  wholly  unavailing.  Seeing 
the  little  girl  in  his  wife's  arms,  the  good-hearted  baronet  took 
charge  of  the  little  boy  and  carried  him  and  John  off  to  the 
stables.  Ever  since  that  time  May  had  spent  a  day  now  and 
then  with  Lady  Snaffle,  and  Young  Jack  had  come  to  have 
the  run  of  the  gardens  and  paddocks.  The  families  had  more 
in  common  than  people  in  the  towns  would  at  first  compre- 
hend, for  the  Bullfinches  were  as  old  in  the  county  as  the 
Snaffles,  and  had  marched  to  battle  in  the  wars  of  the  Roses, 
side  by  side  with  the  chiefs  of  that  ancient  house.  Besides, 
whenever  the  Admiral  was  at  the  Hall  he  frequently  called  at 
Hawkwell  and  chatted  with  John  and  his  daughter.  After 
his  visits  he  would  say  to  his  daughter,  "  Good  man,  John 
Bullfinch,  Laura !  Like  the  cut  of  his  jib.  Politics  right — 
true  blue !  Knows  the  ropes  about  horse-racing  and  farming. 
Very  handsome  girl,  May  Bullfinch — beautiful !  and  so  well- 
behaved  !  Reminds  me  of  the  landlady's  daughter  at  Port 
Royal  when  I  was  a  midshipman  in  the  Sea  Horse  frigate. 
Does,  by  Jove !     She  used  to  wait  upon  us  middies  and  mix 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  77 

our  grog.  You  should  have  heard  her  sing  '  All  in  the  downs.' 
Smart  boy,  that  Young  Jack — ought  to  go  to  sea.  Topman, 
by  George,  by  the  time  he's  twenty  ;  might  be  captain  of  the 
foretop  at  five-and-tweuty.  Or  we  might  get  him  appointed 
midshipman,  only  our  party  is  not  in,  and  there's  an  over- 
supply  of  them." 

"  He  is  heir  to  Hawkwell,  papa,  the  estate  of  the  Bullfinches 
— very  old  family." 

"  What  signifies  a  few  acres  of  muddy  land,  Laura,  when 
the  lad  can  own,  as  you  may  say,  millions  of  acres  of  dark- 
blue  water?" 

Even  Tom  Scarlet  was  looked  upon  by  Lady  Snafile  with  a 
certain  sort  of  favor,  through  the  Admiral.  On  one  occasion 
the  old  sailor  was  at  the  Hall  when  the  anniversary  of  the 
battle  of  Trafalgar  came  round.  Soon  after  break  of  day, 
"  two  bells  in  the  morning  watch,"  the  Admiral  rose  and  found 
the  whole  front  of  the  mansion  bedecked  with  laurel  boughs ; 
he  roused  out  his  daughter  and  Sir  Jerry,  and  then  the  crowd 
upon  the  lawn  gave  three  cheers  and  began  the  stanza  which 
is,  for  simplicity  and  pathos,  almost  sublime : 

"By  Britons  long  expected  great  news  from  the  fleet, 
Commanded  by  Lord  Nelson  the  French  for  to  meet — 
At  length  the  news  came  over,  through  all  England  it  soon  spread, 
That  the  French  were  defeated,  but  Nelson  was  dead." 

Tom  Scarlet  had  been  the  prime  mover  in  all  this,  and  Lady 
Snafile  appreciated  the  pains  he  had  taken  to  celebrate  the 
fame  of  her  veteran  father. 

May  had  not  long  been  seated  by  the  lady's  side  when  she 
noticed  the  sailor  looking  hard  at  them. 

"A  blue-jacket.  May,  but  not  a  man-of-war's-man,  my  dear; 
he  seems  determined  to  know  us  again.  What  can  the  man 
be  staring  at  us  for?" 

"  Perhaps  he  is  not  a  sailor,"  said  May. 

"O,  yes,  he  is.  I  can  tell  at  a  glance  the  real  tar  from  the 
impostors  who  put  on  sailors'  clothes  to  beg  in.  This  man  is 
a  sailor,  but  not  one  of  our  men — a  man-of-war's-man." 

Just  then  the  bell  rang  to  clear  the  course  for  the  first  race. 
There  was  galloping  up  and  down,  smacking  of  hunting-whips, 
and  pressing  back  of  the  foot-people  behind  the  cords.  Louder 
was  the  hubbub.     Shriller  the  gypsy  girls  cried  the  "  correct 


78  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

cards,"  as  they  pushed  back  their  tangled  locks  and  curtsied 
to  the  "  gentlemen  and  sportsmen,"  who  paid  in  shillings  and 
half  crowns,  and  got  smiles  and  chaff  for  change. 

Now  the  course  and  the  horses  riveted  all  attention.  The 
ballad-singers  bawled  no  more.  Punch  shrieked  in  vain. 
Pipe  and  tabor  and  catgut  were  silent.  Tramp,  tramp !  swish, 
swish !  six  or  seven  horses  go  flashing  by.  Isaac  Sadler's 
chestnut  wins  the  plate  for  all  ages,  and  Young  Jack  goes  off 
to  the  quarters  of  Maid  of  the  Vale,  under  a  <jlump  of  elm 
trees  a  few  rods  from  the  course. 

On  his  way  the  lad  was  accosted  by  Parkins. 

*'  Master  Bullfiuch,  what  game,  what  gammon  do  you  think 
the  gypsies  be  up  to  now  ?" 

"  I  don't  know — I'm  in  a  hurry.  Is  it  something  about 
Creeping  Joe  ?" 

"  You've  just  hit  it ;  he's  to  win  easy,  and  Young  Ike  is  to 
be  made  a  great  jockey.  The  fat  man  says  he'll  be  one  of  the 
top-saw^yers  at  Newmarket !" 

"  Do  you  believe  that  nonsense.  Parkins  ?" 

"  Do  I  believe  it  ?  Master  Jack,  I  hates  the  gypsies,  espe- 
cially the  family  of  Gypsy  Jack.  They  be  bad  'uns,  all  bad 
'uns." 

"  Well,  no,"  said  Jack.  "  Miriam  Cotswold  is  a  good  girl 
and  a  merry  one." 

"  What !  A  good  girl !  Lord,  how  you  be  gammoned ! 
Listen  to  me " 

"  Another  time,"  said  Jack  ;  "  no  time  now.  The  saddling- 
bell  has  rung." 

Creeping  Joe  \vas  first  on  the  course,  led  by  the  gypsy 
owner,  and  followed  by  the  fat  man,  Jack  Cotswold,  his  nephew 
Ike,  and  some  scores  of  the  dark  and  sinister-looking  men  of 
the  tribes.  Then  came  Maid  of  the  Vale ;  and  she  soon  be- 
came the  centre  of  a  circle  of  rustic  admirers.  The  old  trainer 
held  her  by  the  head,  Ransome  buckled  the  girths,  and  Young 
Jack  was  as  busy  about  her  as  a  bee  in  clover.  A  tall  groom 
in  livery  came  up  and  said : 

"  I  want  Master  Bullfinch  !     Where's  Master  Bullfiuch  ?" 

"  Now,  where  do  you  think  Master  Bullfinch  is  likely  to  be 
at  this  minute,  and  the  mare  ready  for  her  mount  ?"  said 
Young  Jack. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  79 

"  Lady  Snaffle  wishes  to  see  you  for  a  moment,  sir.  The 
carriage  is  close  at  hand." 

"I  know.  You  tell  her  ladyship  I  can't  come  now,  but 
after  the  race " 

"  What !  you  send  such  a  message  as  that  to  Lady  Snaffle  ?" 
cried  his  father.  "  Off  with  that  jacket !  There's  a  boy  here 
from  Will  Chiffney's  just  the  weight.  No  boy  that  fails  in 
proper  respect  for  Lady  Snaffle  shall  ride  this  mare." 

"  Go  to  her  ladyship,"  said  Mr.  Ransome,  "  and  keep  cool  ; 
there's  plenty  of  time.  The  fact  is  that  her  ladyship  ought 
to  know  better  when  there's  a  race  in  hand ;  but  ladies  nevej 
do  know  better.     Go  on.  Jack." 

*'I'm  going,"  said  he,  with  tears  in  his  eyes;  «'but  if  this 
race  is  lost  it  won't  be  my  fault." 

Hurrying  along,  whip  in  hand,  natty  and  spruce  in  breeches, 
boots,  and  purple  silk.  Jack  passed  by  the  carriages,  and  heard 
with  some  satisfaction  such  remarks  as  "  There's  Young  Bull- 
finch. He  rides  Maid  of  the  Vale.  I  hope  he'll  win."  In 
one  carriage  there  was  a  matron  with  three  daughters,  all  fair 
and  rosy,  and  beautifully  dressed — ^Irs.  Southdo\vn,  her  two 
eldest  daughters,  and  Margery,  a  young  miss  just  in  her  teens. 
Mrs.  Southdown  and  the  young  ladies  bowed  and  smiled. 
Margery  jumped  up  and  cried,  "  Jack  !  I  say.  Jack  !" 

*'  Ma  !  Ma  !  the  idea  !     Shocking  !"  said  the  young  ladies. 

*'Well,  my  dears,  it  may  be  improper  in  a  sort  of  way. 
But  children  will  be  children  ;  and  your  father  has  done  his 
best  to  spoil  Margery  and  Young  Jack  ever  since  thej  were 
babies." 

The  Baronet's  lady  received  Jack  very  graciously,  alid  all 
his  discontent  vanished.  Lady  Snaffle  gave  him  the  tips  of 
her  fingers,  saying,  "  How  d'ye  do.  Master  Bullfinch  ?  Pleased 
to  see  you  in  the  Maid's  colors  again.  How  is  the  dainty  little 
mare  ?" 

"  She's  well,  my  lady  ;  very  well  and  fit,"  said  Jack. 

"  They  say  the  bald-faced  pony  is  a  wonder.  Master  Bull- 
finch.    What  do  you  think  of  the  race  ?" 

"  He's  fast,  ray  lady,  but  the  mare's  the  real  sticker.  She's 
better  bred.     You  know  her  pedigree  ?" 

"  Well,  yes,  but  really  at  this  moment  I  do  not  recall  it." 

"  Got  by  Master  Henry  out  of  Miss  Stays,  by  Whalebone ; 


80  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

Master  Henry  by  Orville.  Lord  Jersey  and  Mr.  Elwes  bred 
him.  The  mare  will  win.  Has  your  ladyship  got  anything 
of  value  on  ?"  said  Jack,  with  solemnity. 

"  Got  anything  of  value  on  !  May,  my  dear,  am  I  expen- 
sively dressed  to-day  ?"  said  the  lady,  laughing. 

"  I  don't  mean  that,  my  lady.  I  mean  any  money  on  the 
mare.     Because  if  not,  put  a  little  on." 

"  But  I  don't  know  who  to  put  it  on  with.  Everybody  in 
this  part  of  the  course  is  for  the  Maid." 

"  So  much  the  better  for  them,  my  lady.  Bet  with  Sir 
Jerry ;  he'll  stand  it.  Somebody  has  gammoned  him  into  the 
belief  that  Creeping  Joe  can't  lose  it." 

"  A  good  idea,  I  declare !  Here  comes  Sir  Jerry,  and  I'll 
adopt  it.  May,  it  will  be  a  rich  joke,  and  I  shall  win  twenty 
guineas." 

The  Baronet  rode  up,  and  gave  his  opinion  of  the  race. 
Creeping  Joe  was  probably  the  fastest  horse  of  his  inches  in 
the  Kingdom  since  Little  Driver's  time.  The  mare  was  a  good 
one,  but  might  not  be  quite  up  to  the  mark.  He  would  have 
been  more  confident  if  Tom  Scarlet  had  been  there  to  train 
her.  And  then  the  Baronet  added,  "A  very  clever  young 
man.  Miss  May." 

May  blushed  and  looked  a  little  confused,  while  Lady  Snaf- 
fle said,  "  I  believe  the  mare  will  win.  Master  Bullfinch  is 
very  confident." 

"  Boys  always  are,"  replied  Sir  Jerry.  "  He'd  be  confident 
if  he  had  no  more  chance  than  a  man  a-foot." 

"  Sir  Jerry,  I  will  back  our  county,  and  lay  you  twenty  to 
forty,"  said  her  ladyship. 

"Not  taken.     Say  twenty  even,  and  it's  a  bet." 

"  I'll  do  it,"  said  Lady  Snafile. 

The  start  was  at  the  head  of  the  straight  run-in,  half  a  mile 
from  the  judges'  stand.  From  the  latter  the  course  turned  in 
a  half  circle  for  a  mile  among  the  gorse,  and  then  there  was 
the  straight  run-in  again.  As  the  ponies  came  along  towards 
the  carriages  and  went  sweeping  by,  it  was  seen  that  Maid  of 
the  Vale,  going  with  a  long,  measured  stroke  and  her  head  low, 
was  leading  two  lengths.  Creeping  Joe,  higher  and  more 
rapid  in  action,  was  second,  and  two  others  who  had  started 
were  already  outpaced.     Away  they  went,  between  the  bushes 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  81 

and  clumps  of  green  gorse,  nothing  of  them  to  be  seen  but 
the  caps  of  the  riders.  A  mile  had  been  run,  and  still  the  lit- 
tle mare  forced  the  pace.  A  mile  and  a  half,  and  still  she 
was  leading  two  lengths  as  they  entered  the  straight.  Now 
the  excitement  began  to  rise. 

"  She'll  win  !  I  know  she  will !  May,  my  dear,  the  mare  is 
winning !"  cried  Lady  Snaffle. 

"  I  do  think  so  !"  said  May,  in  a  flutter  of  hope. 

"  The  boy  rides  well,  and  she  sticks  hard ;  but  the  great 
pinch  is  yet  to  come,"  said  Sir  Jerry,  galloping  away. 

They  were  three  parts  of  the  straight  run  home,  when  the 
gypsy  called  upon  his  pony  for  a  great  rush,  and  there  was  a 
loud  shout  as  the  bald  face  of  Creeping  Joe  was  seen  a  little 
in  front  of  the  mare.  The  ladies  trembled  with  excitement, 
and  some  shook  with  fear.  But  that  shout  was  nothing  to  the 
swell  of  the  prolonged  roar  which  shook  the  bushes  when  Maid 
of  the  Vale  came  again,  and  won  the  race  by  a  length.  Then 
laughing,  smiles,  bright  flashes,  shaking  of  hands,  and  a  rush 
around  the  weighing  booth,  as  Young  Jack  and  Ike,  with  their 
saddles  on  their  arms,  came  out.  The  mare  was  the  great  local 
favorite. 

"  Sir  Jerry,  the  race  is  mine  by  rights.  He  rode  foul.  He 
did  indeed  !     My  uncle  can  prove  it,"  cried  Ike. 

"  Sir  Jerry,  it's  a  lie !"  said  Young  Jack.  "  Ask  my  father 
— ask  Mr.  Ransome — ask  Isaac  Saddler — ask  Lady  Snaffle  ! 
O,  Sir  Jerry,  do  ask  Lady  Snaffle !" 

"  Ike,  there's  half  a  guinea  for  you.  The  race  was  well 
ridden  and  fairly  won.     It  was  not  your  fault  that  you  lost  it." 

The  Baronet  then  took  Young  Jack  by  the  arm  and  said, 
"  My  boy,  you're  a  credit  to  your  father,  and  he's  as  good  a 
man  as  ever  put  foot  in  stirrup.    You  ride  extraordinarily  weJl." 

"  So  I  ought.  Sir  Jerry ;  it  was  Tom  Scarlet  taught  me," 
said  Young  Jack,  full  of  pride  and  joy.  "  Ride  foul,  indeed  ! 
I'd  scorn  it.  Sir  Jerry,  especially  against  him,  Ike." 

"  Ah,  I  understand — clever  fellow,  Tom  Scarlet.  Come 
along,  come  along !  You  must  receive  the  congratulations  of 
your  sister  and  Lady  Snaffle,  and  I'll  bring  your  father  and 
Mr.  Birdbolt  there." 

As  they  went  through  the  crowd  to  the  carriage.  Young 
Jack's  silken  sleeve  brushed  the  bluejacket  of  the- wiry  sailor. 
6 


82  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK. 

He  stood  talking  with  Gypsy  Jack.  They  were  looking  at 
May  Bullfinch  again,  all  unconscious  of  the  astute  Parkins, 
who  watched  them  and  muttered,  "  I  ain't  to  be  gammoned. 
You  chaps  can't  gammon  me !"  He  took  good  care,  however, 
to  keep  behind  the  sailor,  who  showed  such  a  rough  and  reso- 
lute countenance,  as  he  smoked  his  cheroot,  that  Parkins  said, 
"  A  bad  'uu  !     A  very  bad  'un  !" 

After  the  sports  of  the  day  were  over  there  was  more  noise, 
more  merriment,  and  more  bustle.  The  brown,  bare-legged 
gypsy  boys  and  girls  ran  shouting  here  and  there.  Tall  racers 
in  their  clothes,  led  by  little  grooms,  trod  stately  by.  Eed- 
faced  farmers,  with  their  buxom  wives  and  daughters,  pressed 
forward  in  the  throng,  and  hallooed,  "  By  your  leave !  by  your 
leave,  there !"  In  the  booths  faster  went  the  fiddles,  more 
merrily  sounded  the  tabor  and  pipe.  Punch  chuckled  more 
richly  as  he  cudgelled  the  beadle  and  hung  Jack  Ketch. 
There  w^as  the  thundering  of  the  drum,  "and  the  vile  squeal- 
ing of  the  wry-necked  fife."  And  loud  bawled  the  ballad- 
singers.  Lady  Snafile  threw  sixpences  among  the  gypsy  boys 
and  girls,  clapped  her  hands,  and  laughed.  Young  Jack  and 
Mr.  Birdbolt  had  gone  away  with  the  trainer  and  the  victori- 
ous little  mare.  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle's  horse.  Black  Hearty,  and 
Cowslip  w^ere  held  in  readiness  by  grooms  near  the  chariot ; 
but  the  Baronet  and  the  yeoman  just  then  were  elbowing  their 
way  into  the  thick  of  a  vast  crowd,  where  a  fight  was  going 
on,  in  which  Gypsy  Jack  and  the  sailor  acted  as  seconds  to 
one  of  the  brawny  principals. 

It  was  the  twilight  of  the  long  summer  day  before  John 
Bullfinch,  with  May  and  his  son,  sat  at  the  board  of  Mr. 
Birdbolt.  They  had  a  pleasant  and  a  jocund  time.  The 
piping  bullfinch  sat  on  May's  finger  and  whistled  "  Coming 
thro'  the  Rye,"  with  such  art  and  emphasis  that  he  was 
encored.  The  trainer  was  had  in  with  his  lads  to  join  in 
drinking  to  r»Iaid  of  the  Vale.  Young  Jack,  for  the  tenth 
time,  went  over  all  the  incidents  of  the  race,  and  declared 
that  he  knew  he  had  it  safe  when  Ike  challenged  a  furlong 
from  the  post,  instead  of  waiting  till  close  at  home.  John 
Bullfinch  was  in  high  glee.  Sir  Jerry  had  passed  warm  en- 
comiums upon  Young  Jack  to  his  father,  and  the  latter  now 
exclaimed,  "  No  more  boarding  school,  Jack !    No  more,  May  I 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  83 

Sir  Jerry  says  he  don't  need  it ;  he  is  in  the  right  way  of  edu- 
cation— the  school  for  men." 

Then  John  declaimed  at  length  upon  the  glories  and  uses  of 
the  turf;  the  principles  of  breeding;  the  art  and  the  science 
of  training ;  and  the  mysteries  of  jockeyship.  Many  anec- 
dotes he  related,  and  much  information  he  communicated,  con- 
cerning the  Darley  Arab,  the  Godolphin  Arab,  Bloody  But- 
tocks, the  Byerly  Tuck,  the  two  True  Blues,  Flying  Childers, 
King  Herod,  Eclipse,  Pot-8-os,  Waxy,  Whalebone,  and  Web ; 
and  finally  wound  up  with  an  eulogium  upon  Tom  Searlet  and 
Cowslip. 

Mr.  Bullfinch  had  just  concluded  when  it  was  announced 
that  Gypsy  Jack  was  at  the  door  and  wanted  to  see  him  on 
business. 

"  If  his  business  is  to  claim  the  Cup,  it  won't  do,  you  know," 
said  Young  Jack.  "  I  rode  fair,  and  the  mare  won.  Sir  Jerry 
and  the  other  stewards  have  settled  it,  and  the  matter  can't  be 
re-opened." 

"  Hold  your  tongue  !"  said  his  father.  "  Mr.  Birdbolt,  shall 
we  have  Jack  in  and  treat  him  ?" 

"  By  all  means,"  replied  Mr.  Birdbolt. 

The  gypsy  looked  as  if  he  had  been  in  a  hot  encounter,  and 
had  washed  at  a  horse-trough.  His  black  hair  was  matted, 
there  was  blood  upon  his  shirt,  and  a  cut  over  his  eyebrow. 
He  came  forward  with  his  usual  self-assurance,  looked  at  each 
of  the  company  in  turn,  gave  a  sort  of  patronizing  nod  to 
Young  Jack,  and  in  compliance  with  the  invitation  of  Mr. 
Birdbolt  tossed  off  a  steaming  bumper  of  gin-and-water  with 
much  relish. 

"  That's  the  right  stuff!"  said  he.  "  Gentlemen,  I  made  so 
bold  as  to  call,  being  bound  up  the  country  instead  of  down 
the  vale,  and  having  business  which  may  prove  of  interest  to 
all  concerned." 

With  this  lie  set  down  the  glass  and  looked  steadily  at  May. 

"  Well,  what  is  the  business  ?  Is  it  about  the  race,  Jack  ?" 
said  Mr.  Bullfinch. 

"  No,  sir,  it  ain't.  The  race  is  over ;  I've  paid  my  bets,  and 
that's  enough.  The  mare,"  he  continued,  with  a  glance  at 
another  tumbler  of  gin-and-water  which  Mr.  Birdbolt  was 
mixing,  "  is  a  d — d  sight  better  than  I  took  her  for,  and  your 


84  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

son  rode  like  a  captain,  lie  did  ;  like  a  professor  of  the  jockey 
art,  which  is  a'most  as  noble  as  that  followed  in  the  twenty- 
four-foot  ring.  The  owners  of  Creeping  Joe  have  quarrelled 
and  fought.  Luke  licked  the  big  fellow  by  butting — which  I 
don't  count  quite  fair,  though  within  the  rules — and  has  took 
the  pony  all  to  himself.  But  that  ain't  the  thing.  My  business 
here  is  to  deliver  a  letter — I  may  say  two — from  foreign  parts." 

"  A  letter  from  foreign  parts  !  Why  it  must  be  from  Tom 
Scarlet,"  said  Mr.  Bullfinch. 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder,"  said  the  gypsy,  with  a  grin,  "  seeing 
they  was  brought  over  from  America — there's  one  for  Miss 
May,  too — by  a  sailor  cove,  a  friend  of  mine  that  was  in  the 
clipper  brig  Tom  Scarlet  took  passage  to  Baltimore  in." 

"  Is  the  sailor  outside  ?  If  he  is,  let  him  come  forward  and 
splice  the  mainbrace,"  said  Mr.  Birdbolt. 

"  Well,  he's  outside,  but  not  here ;  that  is,  outside  of  the 
lock-up,"  said  the  gypsy.  "  You  see,  there  was  a  little  mill, 
and  after  that  a  jolly  row  all  round.  Parkins,  being  cheeky 
and  officious,  had  his  head  punched  by  this  sailor,  and  went 
off  to  get  a  warrant  out.  So  the  sailor,  not  wanting  to  be 
jugged,  has  cut  and  run  into  another  county." 

"  I  saw  the  man,"  said  Mr.  Bullfinch.  "  Were  not  you  and 
he  seconding  one  of  the  men  in  the  ring?" 

"O,  ay!  he  belongs  to  the  profession,  as  you  may  say," 
returned  the  gypsy.  "  You  used  to  know  him  well  some  years 
ago,  when  he  was  a  clever  lad  and  a  lightweight — fought  by 
the  name  of  Harry  Cox." 

"  The  Oxford  Sailor  Boy  \  And  he  went  over  in  the  same 
ship  with  Tom  Scarlet,  eh  ?"  said  Mr.  Bullfinch. 

"That  a  did,"  returned  the  gypsy,  "and  introduced  him 
there  to  one  of  the  right  sort ;  a  man  from  tlie  West,  some- 
where or  another,  away  up  the  country  among  the  mountains 
and  prairies.  A  good  horseman !  a  knowing  cove !  a  racing 
cove  1  and  one  as  can  fight  above  a  bit !  He  got  Cox  out  of 
trouble  with  the  beaks  in  New  Orleans  once,  when  they 
brought  off  a  little  battle  for  a  thousand  dollars  a  side,  and 
the  other  man  happened  to  die.     Tom's  all  right." 

"  Take  another  glass.  Jack,  while  I  read  this  letter,"  said 
Mr.  Bullfinch. 

The  gypsy  readily  complied.     After  a  long  look  at  May  he 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  85 

addressed  some  observations  to  Mr.  Birdbolt  and  Young  Jack, 
touching  America,  the  vast  quantities  of  unappropriated  land 
there,  the  absence  of  game  laws,  and  the  cheapness  of  rum : 
"Tuppence  a  glass  and  help  yourself!  My  eyes!  what  a 
country !" 

The  letter  to  Mr.  Bullfinch  vras  brief,  and  being  very  legible, 
which  is  more  than  could  be  said  of  many  letters  in  those  days, 
was  soon  read.  It  seemed  to  be  satisfactory,  for  John  laid  it 
on  the  table  before  him,  and  surveyed  the  company.  "  It  is," 
said  he,  "  a  letter  from  America,  written  by  Tom  Scarlet,  sure 
enough,  and  is  just  as  much  to  the  point,  and  goes  as  straight 
to  the  purpose,  as  if  it  had  been  written  at  his  own  desk  at  the 
Grange.  The  voyage  seems  to  have  made  no  more  difference 
to  him  than  a  journey  to  Aylesbury,  Banbury  or  Oxford 
would  to  me." 

"  Very  likely  not  as  much,  if  it  was  winter  time,  and  a  white 
horse  happened " 

"  Hold  your  tongue !"  said  Mr.  Bullfinch,  peremptorily,  to 
the  gypsy,  pointing  to  a  third  glass  of  gin-and-water.  He 
then  resumed  :  "  Tom  is  quite  well.  He  is  gone  to  the  West. 
I  don't  precisely  know  what  the  West  means." 

"  It  is  like  our  going  to  the  west  of  England,"  said  Young 
Jack. 

"  I  dare  say  it  is.  Tom  means  to  make  an  extensive  tour 
in  company  with  a  man  of  those  parts  with  whom  he  has  be- 
come friends — a  very  good  man,  a  capital  horseman  !" 

"  Meaning  for  America,  of  course,"  said  Young  Jack. 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  sir !  A  good  horseman  to  Tom  Scarlet 
is  good  anywhere.  During  his  absence  he  requests  me  to  look 
after  some,  matters  at  the  Grange." 

"  Sensible  notion,  that  there,"  said  the  gypsy. 

"  And,"  continued  Mr.  Bullfinch,  raising  his  voice,  "  to  tell 
Sir  Jerry  he»need  not  be  afraid  to  match  The  Bagman  across 
country,  for  Tom  himself  will  be  home  to  ride  him." 

"  That's  very  good !"  said  Young  Jack.  "  I  wish  he  had 
seen  the  race  to-day.  Father,  I  should  like  to  ride  over  to 
the  Hall  with  you  when  you  go  to  tell  Sir  Jerry.  I  caused 
him  to  lose  twenty  guineas  to-day,  and  if  I  can  help  to  put 
him  on  a  good  thing,  by  letting  him  know  the  real,  2wivate 
opinion  of  Tom  Scarlet  as  to  The  Bagman,  it " 


86  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK. 

Mr.  Bullfinch  had  been  so  struck  aback  by  this  statement 
from  his  son,  that  up  to  the  point  of  the  private  opinion  about 
The  Bagman  he  had  been  unable  to  interpose.  He  now  cried, 
''What  d'ye  say?  Did  I  hear  aright?  Were  you  the  cause  of 
Sir  Jerry's  losing  money  ?  AVent  halves  Avith  the  chap  who 
won  it,  I  suppose.     You  are  a  nice  one  for  my  son  !" 

"  Went  halves — no  !  I  am  only  to  have  a  new  saddle  and 
bridle.  Her  ladyship  told  me  that  since  the  race.  She  laid 
the  bet  with  Sir  Jerry  through  my  advice." 

"  O  !"  said  John,  opening  his  eyes  very  wide,  while  a  smile 
ran  over  his  face,  like  the  ripple  of  the  sunshine  across  a 
meadow  in  the  spring,  when  light  chases  shadow,  and  is  in 
turn  chased  itself  "  If  her  ladyship  won  the  money,  it  alters 
the  case.  I  like  to  see  the  ladies  bet,  especially  when  they 
put  it  on  the  right  horse." 

May  came  forward  from  the  window  with  a  bright,  liquid 
eye  and  a  flushed  cheek.     She  said : 

"  Tom— Mr.  Scarlet,  I  mean " 

"  Always  called  Tom,"  put  in  the  gypsy. 
«  Mr.  Scarlet  writes  very  kindly.     He  wishes  to  be  remem- 
bered by  all  his  friends.     Sends  his  love  to  Jack ;  and  men- 
tioning having  written  to   you,  father,  says,  tell  him  that  as 
yet  I  have  heard  nothing  certain  of  the  White  Horse  !" 
John  Bullfinch  winced  and  cleared  his  throat. 
"  Heard  nothing  of  the  White  Horse !"  said  IMr.  Birdbolt. 
"  Heard  nothing  of  the  AVhite  Horse !     He  must  be  gone 
over  about  the  White  Horse,"  exclaimed  Young  Jack. 

The  gypsy  fixed  the  yeoman  with  his  piercing  eye,  and  said, 
with  great  emphasis  and  deliberation  : 

"  '  Tell  him  that  as  yet  I  have  heard  nothing  certain  of  the 
White  Horse!'  Now,  this  is  curious!  If  this  here  White 
Horse  was  only  a  goblin  horse,  a  sort  of  Will-o'-the-Wisp, 
leading  people  astray,  I  could  have  him  charmed  and  laid  by 
some  of  our  folks.  But  Tom  couldn't  have  been  led  off*  by  that 
sort  of  thing,  and  we  shall  hear  more  of  the  White  Horse."  ^ 

"  I  hope  I  shall  hear  that  he's  ringboned  and  spavined,"  said 
John  Bullfinch,  with  some  acerbity. 

"  Then  I  don't,"  said  the  gypsy,  "  for  though  Tom  has  heard 
nothing  certain  of  him  yet,  he  icill  hear  of  him,  and  if  the 
AVhite  Horse  is  sound,  I'll  bet  a  trifle  he  never  comes  back 
without  him." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  87 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  She  was  so  loved,  the  fairy  ! 

Like  a  mistress  or  a  child, 
For  she  was  so  trim  and  airy, 

So  buoyant  and  so  wild. 
Although  so  young  a  rover, 

She  knew  what  life  might  be, 
For  she  had  wandered  over 

Full  many  a  distant  sea." 

A  CLIPPER  brig  lay,  iu  the  moonlight,  a  little  out  in  the 
stream  at  Baltimore,  and  two  men  stood  upon  the  wharf 
abreast  of  her.  The  brig  was  low  in  the  ^Yater,  broad  in  the 
beam,  and  very  heavily  sparred.  It  seemed  tliat  she  had  lately 
met  with  heavy  w^eather,  for  part  of  her  bulwarks  had  been 
washed  away  and  her  decks  had  a  bare  look,  which  indicated  that 
they  had  been  swept  by  green  seas  within  a  few  days.  Yet  the 
spars  and  standing  rigging  were  all  right,  and  there  was  no 
want  of  trimness  in  the  coiling  of  the  falls  of  the  running 
rigging  upon  the  belaying  pins  and  elects.  The  fact  was  that 
the  swift  clipper,  after  wrestling  with  the  ocean  in  its  fierce 
and  angry  moods  for  three  weeks,  had  at  last  reached  her  port, 
with  all  on  board  well  and  no  damage  done  save  to  the  paint 
and  upper  works,  and  two  or  three  sails  blown  out  of  the  bolt 
ropes.  She  was  a  favorite  with  her  officers  and  her  gallant 
crew,  though  a  very  wet  vessel,  and  one  that  from  the  height 
of  her  masts,  the  reach  of  her  yards,  and  the  great  length  of 
her  main  boom  kept  the  watch  on  the  alert,  and  in  heavy 
weather  required  all  hands  and  the  cook  to  reduce  her  canvas. 
She  had  never  made  a  more  marked  impression  upon  the 
nautical  mind  by  reason  of  her  swift,  staunch,  and  w'eatherly 
qualities  than  upon  the  passage  just  concluded. 

"  A  good  brig  she  is  ;  and  by  the  powers,  the  skipper  and 
mate  know  how  to  drive  her.  The  passage  was  fast  and  good. 
We  are  here  ahead  of  Jagger  ever  so  much.  The  brig  lay  her 
course,  you  know,  all  the  way " 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  Cox,  I  know  very  little  about  it. 


88  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

Whether  it's  a  week  or  a  fortnight  or  a  month  since  I  came 
on  board,  I  hardly  know." 

"  Ay,  ay !  'twas  a  rough  passage  from  first  to  last,  for  we 
got  it  in  the  channel,  and  the  last  gale  off  this  coast  was  a 
heavy  one.  Danger  must  be  a  pretty  good  sea-horse  by  this 
time,  for  he  was  under  water  much  of  the  way.  I  fed  him 
myself  all  the  passage,  and  he  ate  well,  which  is  more  than  you 
did.  He's  a  very  knowing  horse.  When  he  smelt  the  land 
he  almost  talked,  and  the  way  he  struck  out  for  the  shore  when 
we  shoved  him  overboard  was  beautiful.  The  fact  is,  that  the 
Roanoke  in  a  breeze  of  wind  is  a  lively  craft.  She  ducks  down 
a  little  often,  and  points  her  flying  jibboom  up  at  the  stars  once 
in  awhile.  But  what  then  ?  She  is  safe  and  swift.  She  lay 
her  course  all  the  way,  which  is  a  d — d  sight  more  than  the 
liners  and  regular  traders  could  have  done.  Whichever 
dagger  may  be  in,  he  isn't  this  side  of  the  Grand  Banks  yet." 
"Now  I've  had  time  to  reflect,"  said  Tom  Scarlet,  "I  must 
say  that  it  was  imprudent  in  me  to  come  off  at  red  heat.  You 
see,  while  I  lay  below,  and  the  brig  was  tossing  between  sea 
and  sky,  buffeted  about,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  by  all  the  winds 
and  waves  in  the  world,  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  consider." 

"  I  know.  That's  all  over  now.  Another  twenty-four  hours 
on  land  and  you'll  consider  again.  I  have  pondered  over  this 
matter  in  the  watches — at  the  wheel,  mind  you,  and  on  the 
look-out,  and  I've  got  it  made  up  by  day's  reckoning.  Now, 
there's  one  thing  sure,  dagger  won't  go  to  New  York,  be- 
cause there  are  men  there  who  know  him,  and  he  would  sooner 
see  the  d — 1  himself  than  meet  them  face  to  face.  They  had 
transactions  together  in  England,  and  when  these  men  were 
obliged  to  cut  and  run  he  cheated  them.  Boston's  very  un- 
likely. Canada  he  is  sure  to  avoid.  He  may  go  to  Mobile, 
or  to  New  Orleans.  Meantime,  you  are  in  as  good  a  place  as 
any  to  hear  of  him.  Kelly  here,  up  at  the  house,  has  ac- 
quaintances all  along  this  coast.  But,  better  than  that,  he 
tells  me  the  Western  man  I  told  you  of  is  in  Baltimore.  Of 
all  the  millions  in  America  he's  the  man  to  show  you  the  ropes 
and  help  you  to  overhaul  dagger." 

"  But  why  should  he  take  trouble  and  interest  himself  in 
me,  a  complete  stranger  ?" 

"  Because  he's  that  kind  of  man.     He  will  carry  you  off  to 


TEE  WHITE  EOBSE  OF  WOOTTON.  89 

his  plantation,  and  once  he  gets  upon  Jagger's  track  he'll  hunt 
him  to  the  Rocky  Mountains  or  to  Texas,  but  ^vhat  he'll  have 
him  and  recover  your  horse.  Come,  we'll  go  up  and  see  if  he 
is  there  yet.     Kelly  expects  him  by  this  time." 

They  walked  a  block  or  two  into  the  city  and  entered  a  long 
room,  from  which  flashed  forth  ruddy  light,  with  the  sound  of 
music,  and  vigorous  feet  tripping  in  the  dance.  Some  dozen 
men  were  lounging  and  smoking,  most  of  them  sailors.  Some 
were  dancing  to  airs  from  two  fiddles,  a  fife,  and  a  harj).  At 
the  farther  end  of  the  room  there  was  a  bar,  behind  which 
stood  the  proprietor  of  the  place,  a  stout  fellow  of  five-and- 
thirty,  with  his  shirt-sleeves  rolled  up.  To  his  right,  in  a  lit- 
tle recess,  there  were  two  men  over  a  stove,  with  pipes  in  their 
mouths.  One  of  these  was  an  old  sailor,  w^eather-beaten, 
gnarled  and  knotted.  His  hair  was  grizzled,  and  his  face  was 
as  red  and  hard  as  salt  junk  which  has  been  a  time  or  two 
around  the  world.  The  other  man  was  rather  tall,  very  brown, 
very  sinewy,  and  very  quick  in  his  movoments.  His  hair  was 
black,  his  eye  a  dark  hazel,  bold  and  bright.  He  had  neither 
beard  nor  whiskers.  His  dress  was  neat,  not  expensive,  but 
decent,  like  that  of  a  countryman,  and  any  one  could  see  by 
his  cap  of  rich  fur  and  his  spurs  that  he  was  not  a  Baltimore 
man. 

"  And  so  you  say,  old  man,  that  you  know  of  millions  of 
money  wdiich  may  be  come  at  for  a  trifle  of  outlay  ?" 

"  Ay,  he  does !  that  is,  says  so,"  said  Kelly ;  "  but  does  it 
stand  to  reason  that  they'd  be  there  long  and  him  without 
enough  to  pay  for  his  grog  and  tobacco  ?" 

"  Young  man,  I  do  know  of  it,  and  w  hat's  more,  nobody 
else  does ;  so  it's  all  my  own.  If  you  was  a  sailor  man,  we'd 
go  halves.  There's  nothing  but  an  outfit  wanted ;  and  if 
Kelly  here  don't  plank  down  something  towards  it,  none  of 
the  money '11  be  spent  in  this  place ;  that  I'm  settled  upon — 
not  a  doubloon,  not  a  joe,  shall  he  have.  Now,  what  is  wanted 
is  a  fore-and-aft  schooner  and  six  men,  a  puncheon  of  rum,  a 
hogshead  of  bread,  and  some  beef  and  pork." 

".  I  say,  you  can  furnish  them  last,"  said  the  landlord. 

"  Well,  I  have  beef  cattle^  (but  they  are  on  the  hoof)  and  a 
drove  of  live  hogs.     Old  man,  whereabouts  is  this  treasure?" 

"  Well,  ijomig  man,  did  you  ever  hear  of  the  Grand  Cayman  ?" 


90  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

"  Did  I  hear  of  it  ?  Why,  I  have  been  there,  and,  more 
fool  I,  after  such  a  treasure  as  you  tell  about.  We  found  the 
inside  of  a  Spanish  calaboose  instead  of  the  money.  But  I 
hear  Cox's  voice,  Kelly,  and  I  suppose  that's  the  Englishman 
with  him.     He  looks  like  a  lost  man." 

"  That's  him.  They  came  ashore  last  night  from  a  clipper 
brig,  one  as  has  had  a  hard  but  fast  passage — a  diver,  you 
know — one  of  them  as  only  comes  up  now  and  then  to  blow. 
The  Englishman  has  brought  a  horse  with  him — such  a  horse ! 
They  swam  him  ashore.  He'd  suit  you  to  death,  only  you 
couldn't  ride  him." 

"  I  can  ride  anything  that  has  a  mane,"  said  the  Western 
man,  positively. 

"  No,  I'll  swear  you  can't !'  replied  the  ancient  mariner ; 
"  for  to  say  nothing  of  the  lions,  the  sea-serpent  we  made  out 
off  the  Mauritius  had  a  mane  three  fathoms  long.  It's  true 
as  I'm  alive — as  true  as  the  treasure  down  there  by  the 
Grand  Cayman.  'Twas  in  the  morning  watch — larboard  watch 
— I  was  at  the  wheel,  and  I  says  to  the  mate " 

"Hullo  !  what's  the  row  now  ?"  cried  Kelly. 

The  music  had  ceased — oaths,  the  breaking  of  glass,  and 
the  interchange  of  blows  were  heard,  and  a  man  or  two  fell  to 
the  floor.  Those  who  had  interrupted  the  dance  then  went 
hastily  into  the  street,  and  the  musicians,  after  a  time,  prepared 
to  play  again.  But  suddenly  the  door  was  flung  open,  and  a 
party  of  men,  armed  with  slung-shots  and  clubs,  rushed  into 
the  room.  Their  leader  was  a  huge  fellow,  with  a  powerful 
club.  He  struck  down  Tom  Scarlet,  and  another  was  bend- 
ing over  him  with  a  slung-shot  about  to  strike  a  blow  which 
might  have  brained  him,  when  the  Western  man  and  Kelly 
sprang  forward  together.  A  kick  upon  the  jaw  of  the  man 
with  the  sluug-shot  drove  him  in  among  the  fiddlers,  and  then 
the  frontier  man  faced  the  intruders.  Cox  and  several  sailors 
had  been  stricken  down  at  the  first  onset,  as  well  as  Tom  Scar- 
let. The  whole  party  were  about  to  close  with,  the  Western 
man.  But  he  did  not  wait  for  them.  Ketracting  his  left  hand 
into  the  sleeve  of  his  coat,  so  as  to  fend  oft'  with  that  arm,  he 
drew  a  knife  from  some  part  of  his  person,  and  with  a  fierce 
cry,  sprang  at  the  gigantic  leader.  Twice  the  clubs  came 
down  upon  his  head.     Twice  his  knife  flashed,  and  the  glitter 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  91 

of  the  blade  made  some  of  his  assailants  draw  off.  But  at 
last  tile  large  man  struck,  two-handed,  with  force  enough  to 
fell  an  ox,  and  down  went  the  countryman.  His  opponent 
uttered  a  shout  of  triumph,  and  hove  up  his  club  to  finish  the 
work,  but  then  came  his  own  swift  destruction.  The  frontier 
man  rose  quickly  upon  his  left  knee  and  right  foot,  and  with 
an  upward,  backhanded  stroke  at  the  giant,  "  yerked  him  un- 
der the  fifth  rib."  With  a  yell  of  fear  and  pain  the  man 
dropped  his  club  and  rushed  out  of  the  place,  followed  by  his 
companions.  Kelly  sprang  to  the  door  and  threw  two  stout 
oaken  bars  across  it.  He  had  no  sooner  done  so  than  there 
were  shouts  outside  of  "Help!  murder!  watch !"  and  knocking 
at  the  door. 

"  I  say.  Sassafras,  you've  killed  that  fellow,"  said  the  land- 
lord. 

"  He  would  have  killed  me,  if  he  could.  Look  at  this  club, 
with  lead  run  into  the  head  of  it.  If  the  man  who  made  that 
ain't  a  murderer  at  heart  the  Mississippi  don't  run  towards 
the  Gulf     Wlioishe?" 

"  A  fireman  and  a  politician — that  is,  his  friends  have  got 
political  influence.  You  must  clear  out  at  once,  and  take  the 
Englishman  with  you.     It  won't  suit  you  to  lay  in  jail." 

"  No ;  but  I  doubt  whether  the  Englishman  could  'cut  his 
way  through  the  gang  at  the  door  if  I  could  mine." 

"  I'll  manage  it  all.     Come  here.     Billy,  get  up." 

A  young  boy  arose  from  a  berth  near  the  bar,  and  the  land- 
lord said  : 

"  Go  to  your  uncle's  ;  tell  him  to  have  the  Englishman's 
horse  saddled  and  bridled  and  in  the  alley  in  no  time.  Then 
go  to  Carrol's  and  take  Sassafras's  horse  there.  Wait  till  they 
come  to  you." 

He  then  put  the  boy  out  through  a  little  window  at  the 
back. 

"  Now,  Cox,"  said  the  landlord,  "  you  three  must  go  out  over 
the  roof,  cross  the  alley,  and  down  off  the  tobacco  warehouse. 
You  have  been  out  that  way  before." 

"  I  have ;  but  there  was  a  plank  and  fifteen  fathom  of  rope." 

"  They  are  there  now.  You'll  find  Mike  in  the  attic  to 
bring  them  back  again.  Sassafras,  you'll  be  pursued — no  time 
to  lose.     Never  mind  money.    This'll  soon  blow  over,  and  you 


92  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

can  settle  when  you  come  East  again.  Take  that  Englishman 
home  with  you,  and  keep  him  out  of  harm's  way  until  he  has 
got  the  hang  of  the  country." 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  Sassafras  and  Tom  Scarlet 
mounted  their  horses  behind  the  stable  of  Kelly's  brother  in 
the  presence  of  Cox,  a  man  from  Carrol's,  and  the  boy  Billy. 

"  You'd  better  come  with  us.  Cox.  I  can  get  another  horse 
at  Pierce's,  outside  the  city.  Fine,  free  air  t'other  side  of  the 
mountains,  and  I'll  show  you  sport." 

*'  The  breezes  from  the  blue  water  are  healthier  for  me,"  re- 
plied the  sailor.  "  I  could  lay  in  this  town  all  snug  for  six 
months.  But  there's  no  call  for  it.  In  the  stream,  waiting  for 
the  turn  of  the  tide  to  trip  her  anchor,  there's  a  vessel  bound 
to  New  Orleans.  I  know  the  mate  and  I  mean  to  sail  in  her. 
Direct  letters  to  me  at  the  old  place  and  I'll  take  'em  to  Eng- 
land." 

"  You  won't  go  with  us,  then  ?" 

"  No ;  it's  not  to  be  thought  of." 

"  I  sav,  Sassafras,  I'll  go.  I  want  to  go  to  the  West,"  said 
Billy. 

"  Good  boy !  So  you  shall  when  I  come  East  again.  Good- 
night, boys." 


CHAPTER  XI. 


Dofjherry. — Tou  shall  comprehend  all  vagrom  men ;  you  are  to  bid  any  man 
stand  in  the  Prince's  name. 

Wdtchmnu. — How  if  a'  will  not  stand? 

Bof/hen-y. — "Why,  then,  take  no  note  of  him,  but  let  him  go  ;  and  presently 
call  the  rest  of  the  watch  together,  and  thank  God  you  are  rid  of  a  knave. 

SILENTLY  and  slowly  through  the  city,  keeping  to  narrow 
and  unfrequented  streets.  Sassafras  and  Tom  Scarlet  rode 
together.  Presently  the  former  explained  in  brief  terms  that 
when  they  reached  the  road  they  could  make  speed,  and  with 
such  horses  as  they  rode  could  easily  keep  ahead  of  all  pur- 
suers. Arrived  at  the  straggling  suburbs,  Sassafras  leaped 
his  horse  over  a  low  fence  and  led  the  way  across  an  open 
space  of  ground  to  a  good  road  leading  towards  the  West, 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  93 

through  au  undulating  country.  Another  leap  took  them 
into  the  road,  when  Sassafras  assured  his  companion  they 
might  now  consider  themselves  safe.  They  would  ride  briskly 
for  about  five  miles,  when  he  would  call  upon  a  friend  of  his 
for  a  few  minutes,  after  which  they  would  push  on  farther. 
He  should  consider  himself  bound  to  be  a  friend  to  Tom ;  he 
would  carry  him  first  to  his  plantation,  to  get  the  whistle  of 
the  winds  and  the  roar  of  the  waves  out  of  his  ears,  and  then 
aid  him  to  pursue  Jagger  and  recover  his  White  Horse.  Time 
enough  for  talk  afterwards,  he  added  ;  they  would  canter  along 
now  and  get  a  piece  away  from  those  who  might  follow. 

"  Do  you  think  the  man  is  dead?"  said  Tom  Scarlet. 

"He  may  be,  but  he  had  thick  clothes  on,  and  the  life  lies 
low  in  some  of  these  heavy,  burly  fellows.  Besides,  I  felt  the 
knife  cut  through  a  rib  or  two,  and  I  doubt  whether  it  went 
far  home.  But  you  would  have  been  dead  enough  by  this 
time  if  I  had  not  struck  in.  I  have  heard  something  of  your 
history  from  Cox.  Reckon  me  your  friend.  I  will  take 
chances  but  what  I'll  see  you  righted ;  the  more  so,  because  at 
this,  our  first  acquaintance,  we  were  in  a  little  difficulty 
together.  Nothing  like  being  on  the  same  side  in  a  little 
fight  to  make  friends  of  men  upon  short  acquaintance." 

Tom  Scarlet  expressed  his  gratitude  in  suitable  teruis,  and 
declared  that  he  resigned  himself  to  the  guidance  of  Sassafras. 
The  young  men  shook  hands,  and  put  their  horses  to  an  easy 
hand-gallop. 

Sassafras  was  a  Virginian  ;  but  his  home  was  now  so  far 
towards  the  West,  that  it  may  be  doubted  whether  his  new- 
found friend  would  have  consented  to  accompany  him,  if  he 
had  known  that  the  plantation  to  which  they  were  bound  was 
some  twelve  hundred  miles  away,  and  west  of  the  great  river 
which,  running  a  course  as  far  from  north  to  south,  is  called 
the  Father  of  the  Waters.  Sassafras  was  the  youngest  of  a 
family  of  three  children,  the  eldest  of  whom  was  a  girl.  He 
lost  his  mother  young,  but  not  before  the  excellent  woman 
had  planted  and  cherished  in  his  mind  the  sound  principles 
of  morality  and  simple  piety  by  which  she  herself  had  always 
been  governed.  His  father,  after  the  death  of  his  wife,  grew 
discontented,  and  moving  across  the  mountains  with  their 
stock  and  negroes,  they  settled  in  Kentucky.     The  daughter 


94  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N. 

married  a  well-to-do  farmer  \Yheii  she  was  eighteen.  Kot  long 
afterwards  the  father  and  the  eldest  brother  were  cut  off  im- 
timely  in  a  desperate  encounter  with  fellows  called  "  Regu- 
lators," who,  under  pretence  of  supplementing  the  laws,  car- 
ried on  all  sorts  of  depredations  and  violence.  Young  Sassa- 
fras killed  the  leader  of  the  gang  before  the  blood  of  his 
father  and  brother  was  well  off  the  ground,  and  desperately 
wounded  two  others.  They  had  relatives  and  friends,  and 
after  carrying  on  a  bitter,  bloody  and  vindictive  feud  with 
extraordinary  daring  and  constancy,  the  young  man — he  was 
hardly  more  than  a  youth — sold  off  most  of  his  effects  to  his 
brother-in-law,  and  started  for  Missouri  with  the. negroes,  who 
might  be  considered  the  survivors  of  his  family.  He  also  took 
a  lot  of  blood  horses.  He  settled  on  the  Missouri  river,  near 
St.  Joseph's,  the  old  city  founded  by  the  French  explorers  and 
traders.  There  he  now  owned  a  large  plantation.  He  did  not, 
however,  spend  much  of  his'time  upon  it,  but  made  excursions 
to  the  Indian  country,  and  sometimes  visited  New  Orleans. 
Meantime  his  laud  and  stock  were  honestly,  if  not  thriftily, 
looked  after  by  his  negroes,  at  the  head  of  whom  was  a  sage, 
white-headed  grandsire,  who  had  "  always  been  old,"  as  Sas- 
safras said,  which  meant  as  long  as  he  could  remember.  Most 
of  the  produce  raised  on  the  estate,  save  the  tobacco,  which 
flourished  much  in  the  rich  bottoms,  was  consumed  upon  it. 
In  fact,  if  any  one  had  made  it  a  matter  of  reproach  to  Sassa- 
fras that  he  owned  slaves,  he  would  have  replied,  "  If  it  comes 
to  that,  they  own  me." 

He  was  passionately  fond  of  horses  and  horse-racing.  He 
was  a  bold,  skilful  and  enduring  rider,  a  sure  shot  with  the 
rifle,  and  a  mighty  hunter.  He  was  not  a  quarrelsome  man, 
but  he  was  a  quick,  tenacious  and  severe  fighter  when  engaged. 
He  revered  the  memory  of  his  mother,  and  sometimes  curbed 
his  tongue  in  altercations  and  broils  with  the  reflection,  "  ^ly 
mother  would  not  have  approved  of  this."  He  was  intensely 
devoted  to  "  Old  Virginia,"  and  it  is  to  be  remarked  that  the 
most  thoroughgoing  and  unselfish  admirers  of  some  states, 
commonwealths  and  countries,  ai-ie  to  be  found  among  those 
who  have  left  them.  Sassafras  would  sometimes  laugh  at  a 
reflection  upon  himself;  but  let  anybody  say  anything  against 
the  name,  the  fame,  the  honor  or  the  wisdom  of  the  "  Old 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  95 

Dominion,"  and  his  blood  was  up.  The  calumniator  was  re- 
quired to  retract  or  fight  upon  the  spot. 

About  once  a  year  Sassafras  visited  Baltimore,  passing  down 
the  Mississippi  and  up  the  Ohio  by  steamboat  to  Wheeling  in 
Virginia,  and  then  riding  across  the  mountains  on  horseback. 
His  business  was  to  settle  his  accounts  with  an  old  Scotch 
merchant  to  whom  he  sent  his  tobacco  and  his  furs,  and  who 
shipped  to  him  sundry  supplies.  Two  days  before  he  had  met 
Tom  Scarlet,  Sassafras  had  presented  himself,  without  notice, 
as  usual,  at  the  merchant's  warehouse,  and  had  been  ushered 
into  the  inner  office,  where  the  old  man  sat  at  one  desk  and 
his  trusty  bookkeeper,  a  canny  Scot,  at  another.  After  a  warm 
greeting,  there  was  some  such  colloquy  as  follows  : 

"  Ye've  sent  no  tobacco  the  year,  Sassafras.  How's  that, 
man?" 

"  I  was  off  in  the  Indian  country,  Mr.  Leith.  The  tobacco 
is  all  right,  and  a  good  crop  it  is.  It  will  be  sent  on  after  the 
spring  freshets  have  run  out  of  our  rivers." 

"  'Tis  good,  is  it,  Sassafras  ?  And  how  many  hogsheads  ?" 
said  the  old  gentleman,  taking  a  pinch  of  black  rappee,  im- 
ported from  "  Edinboro'  Toon." 

"  I  don't  precisely  know  how  many,  sir." 

"  Hear  till  this,  Duncan  !  hear  till  this  !  Here  is  a  planter 
who  don't  know  how  many  hogsheads  of  tobacco  he's  got  to 
ship !" 

"  I  didn't  count  'em.  I  know  more  about  the  furs,  because 
I  brought  them  from  up  the  Missouri  river  myself." 

"  And  what  will  they  be.  Sassafras  ?" 

*' Why,  there's  mink  and  otter  and  beaver  and  fox,  and 
there's  two  silver  fox,  but  they  are  not  for  you." 

"  Not  for  us !     How's  that,  man  ?" 

"  I'm  going  to  make  a  present  of  them  to  a  lady — a  young 
lady,  sir." 

"  Present  to  a  leddy — a  young  leddy  !  Nonsense,  man  !  The 
value  is  very  large — much  too  large." 

"  Very  likely,  but  for  all  that  I  shall  give  'em  to  your 
daughter." 

"Duncan,  heard  a  man  ever  the  like  o'this!  Sassafras, 
there  must  be  an  invoice  0'  the  furs." 

"  Very  well,  you  can  make  it  yourself." 


96  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  And  we  maun  settle  our  old  account.  Ye'll  have  had  the 
statement,  Sassafras  ?" 

"O,  yes,  sir,  I  have  the  statement  you  sent." 

"And  ye've  fund  it  correct?" 

"  I  have.  I  have  added  up  all  the  figures,  and  the  totals 
are  right.  The  statement  is  a  beautiful  statement,  only  I  can't 
quite  make  out  whether  we  are  even,  or  whether  I  owe  you 
about  a  thousand  dollars  or  you  owe  me  a  thousand." 

"  Good  Lord !  Duncan  !  hear  till  this !  Draw  the  man  a 
check  for  $1161.18,  and  let's  get  him  oot  o'  this  toon  as  soon 
as  may  be." 

"  Never  mind  the  odd  cents,  Duncan." 

"  But  he  must  mind  the  odd  cents.  How  the  devil  do  ye 
think  the  books  can  be  balanced  and  the  check  no'  show  the 
cents?  Sassafras,  ye'll  dine  wi'  me  the  day.  Duncan,  ye'll 
come  and  cut  your  mutton  wi'  us.  And  noo,  as  it's  past  the 
hoor  of  noon,  a  wee  drap  of  the  auld  stuffie  from  over  yonder 
will  be  no  that  ill  to  take.  Bring  out  the  Ferintosh,  Duncan. 
See  ye  draw  the  curtain  close,  too.  Ye  see,  Sassafras,  there's 
a  wheen  young  lads  in  the  ooter  office,  and  I'll  set  no  bad  ex- 
ample to  youth.  Doou  wi't,  man !  Ye  get  na  such  dram  as 
that  in  the  Indian  country.     Here's  till  ye !" 

When  the  old  merchant  took  his  seat  at  the  desk  the  follow- 
ing morning,  he  said : 

"  Duncan,  we  mun  gi'  credit  to  Sassafras  at  the  full  market 
price  when  his  furs  come  to  han'." 

"  Ay,  sir ;  and  he  mun  get  full  weight  in  the  entry  of  his 
tobacco." 

"  Wha  said  anything  about  weight,  ye  fause  loon  ?" 

"  Weel,  sir,  I  did.  Yon  chiel,  Sassafras,  accepts  everything 
we  put  doon  without  question,  and  he's  no  skeel  in  figures  be- 
yond adding  up.  'Twould  be  a  shame  not  to  gi'  him  full 
weight.  Besides,  we'll  mak'  it  up  oot  of  them  ower-cute  Yan- 
kees fra'  the  North  that  come  here  haggling  and  objecting  and 
speering,  and  wushiiig  a  reduction  of  this,  and  demanding  an 
explanation  o'  that — we'll  mak'  it  up  oot  o'  tha  cunning  bodies 
wha  think  a'  body  as  unprincipled  as  theirsels." 

"  So  we  will,  Duncan — so  we  will !  My  certie,  Duncan,  but 
ye're  well  grunded  in  the  true  mercantile  principle,  to  which, 
by  the  by,  we'll  take  a  wee  drappie." 

The  education  of  Sassafras  had  been  elementary  only.    But 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  97 

it  had  been  improved  aud  enlarged  since  his  early  school  days. 
He  had  derived  much  general  information  from  several  classes 
of  men.  The  chief  of  these  were  Catholic  priests  at  an  insti- 
tution near  St.  Joseph's,  aud  certain  Jesuit  missionaries  among 
the  Indians.  Sassafras  was  not  himself  a  Catholic.  His 
mother  had  been  a  member  of  the  Episcopal  Church  of  the 
Old  Dominion,  and  that  was  good  enough  for  him.  But  he 
respected  the  priests  he  knew,  especially  the  missionaries. 
Besides,  when  stricken  with  fever  at  I^ew  Orleans,  after 
the  expedition  to  the  Grand  Caiman,  he  had  been  nursed  and 
cured  by  the  Sisters  of  the  Charity  Hospital.  You  might  as 
well  abuse  the  Old  Dominion  as  declaim  against  priests  and 
nuns  to  Sassafras  after  that.  He  gave  money  to  help  build 
churches.  He  furnished  the  fathers  with  horses.  Every  year 
at  Christmas  he  overwhelmed  the  larder  of  the  Lady  Superior 
(a  French  Countess)  of  the  Sisters'  House  at  St.  Joseph's  with 
hogs,  hindquarters  of  beef,  turkeys,  poultry  and  bucks,  such 
as  delighted  the  heart  of  Father  Abbot  at  Bolton  Abbey  in 
the  olden  time.  Sassafras  was  fond  of  books  at  leisure  times. 
He  read  but  few,  but  these  were  good,  and  his  taste  had  mainly 
been  guided  by  a  good  old  Jesuit  from  the  Canada  side  of  the 
line,  who  was  as  much  English  as  French,  and  had  been  a 
soldier  in  his  youth.  The  last  time  the  old  man  parted  from 
him  was  at  an  Indian  encampment  among  the  spurs  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  and  then  the  missionary  said : 

"  Sassafras,  my  son,  farewell !  We  shall  probably  not  meet 
again.  To  say  to  you  be  brave,  honest,  and  truthful  I  deem 
unnecessary.  But,  Sassafras,  be  temperate,  merciful  and  just. 
Shed  no  blood,  save  upon  absolute  necessity.  May  God  have 
you  in  his  keeping." 

Sassafras  and  his  English  friend  drew  bridle  in  front  of  a 
large  frame  house,  with  straggling  out-buildings,  which  stood 
back  from  the  road.  The  moon  was  sinking  in  the  West,  but 
there  was  light  enough  for  the  practised  eye  of  Sassafras  to  see 
that  a  herd  of  cattle  lay  in  the  yards  adjacent  to  the  out-build- 
ings. He  put  his  fingers  to  his  mouth  and  whistled  low  but 
shrill.  A  man  came  out,  attended  by  a  stout  negro  bearing  a 
lantern.  The  man  was  thin  and  tall.  His  face  was  expressive, 
now  grave,  then  lively  and  gay,  and  there  was  humor  in  his 
gray  eve  and  the  lines  about  the  corners  of  his  flexible  mouth. 
*7 


98  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

" Halloo,  Sassafras !"  said  he,  "  what  now?  You  are  back 
very  soon." 

<'  Ay  !  and  a  friend  with  me,  but  we  shall  not  stop  here  now." 

"  Not  stop !  why  you  won't  go  on  to  Smith's  !  Your  friend 
is  an  Englishman,  I  see,  and  on  a  good  horse.  He's  brought 
money  with  him.  They  all  do  it.  Don't  let  him  go  to 
Smith's." 

"  Pierce  !"  said  Sassafras,  sharply,  "  there's  been  a  little  dif- 
ficulty, and  a  fellow  got  cut  with  a  knife  in  the  ribs." 

"  I  say,  Sassafras,  so  you've  been  at  it  again  !"  said  Pierce, 
solemnly,  and  then  he  added  with  a  grin,  "  and  a  knife,  too ! 
You  ought  not  to  have  used  a  knife." 

"  Well,  a  pistol  would  have  done  as  well  and  I  had  one 
about  me,  but  the  knife  was  handy  to  my  grip.  Besides,  the 
difficulty  was  hot  just  then,  and  a  knife  never  misses  fire. 
Now,  the  man  who  was  cut  has  got  political  influence,  and 
they  will  send  men  after  us.  I  don't  want  to  fight  any  more 
to-night,  and  I  don't  want  to  be  followed.  Still,  if  we  are  fol- 
lowed we  are  not  going  to  kill  our  horses  by  running  away. 
You  understand." 

"  I  understand,  Sassafras.  You  won't  be  followed  beyond 
this  house — that  is,  if  them  that  follow  have  got  a  bit  of  sense." 

"Good  !  who's  here  with  those  cattle?" 

"  Men  from  the  West,  who  own  them." 

"  From  over  the  mountains  ?" 

"  No ;  this  side  of  the  mountains." 

"  Well,  good-night.  Pierce.  Give  my  love  to  my  cousin 
Elizabeth,  and  tell  her  the  next  time  I  come  East  I'll  take 
her  to  the  Old  Dominion." 

"  Sassafras,  stop  that,"  said  Pierce,  with  a  gesture  of  alarm  ; 
*'  them  words  '  Old  Dominion'  wakes  up  your  sweet  cousin  in 
the  most  astonishing  manner,  and  her  health  is  so  precious 
that  I  object  to  having  her  disturbed." 

Sassafras  and  Tom  Scarlet  rode  away.  Pierce  returned  into 
the  bar-room  of  his  tavern  with  the  negro  ;  and  while  the  latter 
stood  by  the  stove,  the  former  made  ready  to  refresh  himself 
with  a  glass  of  liquor.  Before  he  got  it  to  his  lips  there  was 
a  patter  as  of  little  feet  in  slippers  on  the  stairs  at  the  back, 
and  a  female  voice,  not  as  low  and  soft  as  Pierce  or  Kichard 
Grant  White  might  have  wished,  exclaimed  : 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  99 

"  Pierce  I" 

He  shook  his  head  and  looked  at  the  negro,  who  thereupon 
skook  his  head. 

"  Pierce !     Mlder  Pierce !" 

No  answer,  until  the  frill  of  a  night-cap  over  certain  black 
eyes  and  black  hair  in  curl-papers  appeared  round  the  bal- 
usters.    Mr.  Pierce  then  exclaimed  : 

" I  must  have  been  dozing,  my  dear.     What  do  you  wish?'' 

"  Who  were  you  talking  with  outside,  Pierce  ?" 

"  Travellers,  Elizabeth  ;  strangers  going  West." 

"  O,  you  bold  deceiver !  It  was  my  cousin  —  Sassafras. 
And  there's  been  a  fight.  Sassafras  has  whipped  four  or  five 
more.     Acknowledge  the  corn.  Pierce  !    You  know  he  has !" 

"  Well,  my  dear,  if  Sassafras  was  here,  and  if  there  was  a 
fight,  Sassafras  got  the  best  of  it." 

"  Of  course !  He's  a  Virginian,  from  the  Old  Dominion. 
So  am  I,  Pierce !" 

"  My  dear,  I've  heard  that  some  thousands  of  times." 

The  footsteps  retreated,  and  the  good  man  was  about  to  put 
the  tumbler  to  his  lips,  when  Elizabeth  said  : 

"Pierce,  if  men  come  here  from  Baltimore,  send  them 
packing  home  again.  Tell  them  that  there's  a  party  of  Vir- 
ginians on  the  road  ahead  ;  and  ,say,  too,  that  your  own  wife, 
a  Sassafras  by  the  mother's  side,  can  hit  a  squirrel  in  a  tree- 
top  with  a  two-grooved  rifle — from  the  Old  Dominion,  Pierce!" 

Mr.  Pierce  shook  his  head  at  the  darkey,  and  listened  like 
a  cat  at  a  cupboard  door,  until  he  heard  a  sound  above  which 
indicated  that  Mrs.  Pierce  had  laid  down  again.  He  then 
drained  his  glass,  and,  looking  at  the  darkey,  said : 

"When  a  man,  a  Marylander,  marries  into  one  of  the " 

"  Fust  families !"  said  the  darkey. 

"  Fust  fighting  families  of  Virginia,  he  nat'rally  wishes  his 
member  of  the  family  to  enjoy  her  sleep  o'  nights.  Jacob, 
there'll  be  men  here  from  Baltimore.  They  will  have  driven 
fast,  and  you'll  have  to  look  to  their  horses." 

"  Yes,  sah  !  and  if  dey  trow  a  shoe,  or  break  a  trace,  or 
start  a  tire — such  will  happen  sometimes  on  de  road,  sah !" 

"  Jacob,  I  see  you  understand,  but  I  hope  none  of  these  ac- 
cidents will  happen  on  the  road  hack  to  Baltimore.  What 
will  you  take,  Jacob  ?     Here's  whiskey,  very  pure,  made  in 


100  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

the  raouutaius,  Jacob;  and  here's  rum,  old,  straight  from 
Jamaica." 

"  De  whiskey,  Massa  Pierce,  is  bery  fine.  For  de  ole  Ja- 
maicky  I  hab  great  respect,  sah  I  But  habbiug  been  ras'd  in 
Virginia,  away  down  on  de  Eastern  shoah,  de  peach  and  honey 
— real  essence  and  true  flavor  ob  de  ole  Doniin " 

"  Stop !    Here  you  are — help  yourself!" 

The  miserable  man — he  was  in  bondage  sore — took  tlie 
peach  brandy  in  one  hand  and  the  honey  in  the  other,  and 
compounded  a  tumbler  full.  His  eye  dilated,  his  nostrils  ex- 
panded, his  mouth  seemed  to  widen  from  ear  to  ear.  And  all 
over  his  broad  ebony  countenance  there  spread  a  glow  like 
that  of  an  African  morning  on  the  west  coast. 

"  Jacob,"  said  Mr.  Pierce,  "  your  missus  is  a  singular  good 
woman." 

"  Dar  no  better  *oman  in  de  'ole " 

"Stop!" 

"'Ole  United  States,  sali !  Everybody  say  dat.  De  town 
trash  negroes  in  Baltimore  acknowledge  dat." 

"  Jacob,  you  may  live — far  distant  be  the  day — to  see  your 
missus  in  her  coffin.  You've  heerd  of  people  being  buried 
alive?" 

"  I  hab  heerd,  but  not  experienced,  sah." 

"Well,  Jacob,  if  you  live  to  see  your  missus  in  her  coffin, 
jest  wdiisper  '  Ole  Dominion '  close  to  her  ear.  If  nothing 
happens  then  it  will  be  safe  to  proceed  with  the  funeral." 

No  long  time  had  elapsed  before  Pierce  and  the  negro  heard 
the  sound  of  approaching  wheels,  upon  wdiich  they  fell  asleep 
instanter,  and  it  was  several  minutes  before  they  suffered  them- 
selves to  wake  up  and  admit  the  new-comers.  There  were  six 
men  in  the  party,  and  the  leader  was  a  bluff,  portly  personage, 
with  the  air  of  one  in  authority.  He  was  addressed  by  the 
others  as  Sheriff,  but  his  office  was  only  that  of  chief  deputy. 

"  Any  strangers  in  the  house.  Pierce  ?"  said  he. 

"  Yes,  there  are — five  or  six.  They  own  the  cattle  in  the 
yard  and  are  going  to  the  city  at  daybreak." 

"  Is  there  any  stranger  here,  come  from  the  city,  a  Western 
man,  with  a  sailor  and  an  Englishman  in  his  company  ?" 

"  No  such  person  in  the  house." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N.  101 

"  No  man  by  the  name  of  Sassafras,  eh  ?  Do  you  know  such 
a  person  ?" 

"  I  do.  He  stopped  here  some  days  ago  as  he  went  in. 
What  of  him?" 

"  He  has  killed  a  man,  that's  all." 

"  Then  if  he  is  on  the  road  he's  gone  on  to  Smith's  beyond 
any  question.  All  such  parties  do.  None  but  quiet,  peacea- 
ble citizens  stop  at  my  place,  but  at  Smith's " 

At  this  Pierce  gave  such  an  unutterable  look  and  made  such 
a  gesture  as  to  signify  that  Smith's  chosen  customers  were  none 
too  good  for  Sassafras  or  any  other  man. 

"  We  must  follow  him.    How  far  do  you  call  it  to  Smith's?" 

"  I  call  it  a  good  deal  too  far  for  you  to  travel  before  day- 
light," replied  Pierce.  "  If  Sassafras  and  the  sailor  and  the 
Englishman  are  there,  they  will  have  the  backing  of  as  des- 
perate a  gang  as  is  to  be  met  with  on  this  side  of  the  moun- 
tains. If  I  were  you  I  should  stay  here  until  daylight  cer- 
tain. You  are  not  strong  enough  to  take  these  men  at 
Smith's." 

"  The  law  would  be  on  our  side,"  said  a  timorous-looking 
man  who  was  of  the  sheriif 's  party. 

"You  couldn't  have  a  worse  thing  on  your  side  at  Smith's 
when  the  knives  and  pistols  and  rifles  come  into  play." 

"  You  think  Sassafras  will  resist  ?" 

"  I  know  he  will.  He's  been  resisting  somebody  or  some- 
thing ever  since  he  was  fourteen  years  old,  at  which  age  he 
fought  at  the  polls  for  Jackson.  Besides,  I  doubt  whether  he 
won't  be  justified  in  resisting.  Your  warrant  will  not  run 
at  Smith's;  his  house  is  in  another  county — a  Democratic 
county." 

"  And  Sassafras  is  a  Democrat,  is  he  ?"  said  a  sprightly  little 
man. 

"  I  have  it  from  his  cousin,  a  noted  shot  with  a  two-grooved 
rifle,  who  is  not  far  away,  that  he  fought  at  the  polls  for  Jack- 
son when  fourteen  years  old,  and  he's  been  at  it  pretty  much 
ever  since." 

"  Then  I  honor  him,"  said  the  little  man.  "  I'm  a  Democrat 
myself,  and  I  now  give  notice  that  I  have  been  mistaken.  The 
sheriff"  inveigled  me  into  joining  this  party  by  pretending  that 
it  was  to  go  after  a  murdering  ruffian,  and  I  now  find  that  he's 


102  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

a  respectable  gentleman,  a  worthy  fellow-citizen  of  the  West. 
This  is  a  political  manoeuvre — another  Whig  plot  against  the 
rights  of  the  people.  Talk  about  resisting — I'll  be  d — d  if  I 
don't  resist  it  myself" 

"  The  real  truth  is  that  you  had  better  stay  here  till  morn- 
ing and  then  go  back  to  Baltimore,"  said  Pierce.  "  How  can 
it  be  expected  that  you  gentlemen  in  buggies,  responsible  men 
of  homes  and  reputation,  can  come  up  with  such  a  set  of  dare- 
devils as  Sassafras  and  Smith's  gang,  and  them  on  horseback  ? 
Besides,  if  you  could  come  up  with  them,  you  would  be  am- 
bushed to  a  certainty.  That  cousin  can  hit  a  squirrel  in  a 
tree-top  with  a  two-grooved  rifle — that  I  know,  for  I've  seen  it 
done.  The  best  thing  for  all  concerned  is  just  to  let  Sassafras 
go  his  ways.  The  state  of  Maryland  will  be  well  shet  of  him, 
and  you'll  take  no  damage  in  any  respect." 

"As  a  father  of  a  family,"  said  the  timorous-looking  man, 
"  I  look  upon  Pierce's  advice  as  good." 

"  I  have  something  else  to  say  about  Sassafras,  which  the 
sheriff  ought  to  hear,"  said  Pierce.  "  Look  at  this  paper.  I 
got  it  through  the  cousin  I  mentioned,  copied  it  with  my  own 
hand  from  the  original,  which  you'll  find  in  the  possession  of 
Sassafras,  if  you  ever  get  hold  of  him.     Now  listen : 

" '  Greenbriar,  Virginia. 

"  '  This  is  to  certify  to  my  friends  that  John  Sassafras,  Dem- 
ocrat and  Jackson  man,  came  to  my  aid  in  a  time  of  great 
peril,  and  saved  my  life  at  the  imminent  risk  of  his  own. 

(Signed)  Hexry  Clay.'  " 


"Let  me  see  that  paper,"  said  the  sheriff.  "Ay!  that's 
]Mr.  Clay's  hand  and  style,  sure  enough !" 

"  Hand  and  style !     Why,  it's  a  copy  !"  said  the  little  man. 

"  Very  well,  what  if  it  is  ?  Do  you  think  Pierce  can  copy 
from  Harry  of  the  West  and  me  not  find  it  out?  It  will  be 
of  no  use  for  us  to  put  ourselves  into  trouble  and  danger  in 
order  to  take  this  man.  Xo  jury  will  convict.  Pierce,  copy 
me  that  off.  We'll  stay  here  till  morning,  and  then  take  the 
back  track." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  103 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  The  western  sky  was  all  aflame, 
The  day  was  well  nigh  done — 
Almost  upon  the  western  wave 
Rested  the  broad,  bright  sun." 

AT  the  time  of  which  I  write,  between  forty  and  fifty  years 
ago,  the  Republic  of  the  United  States  of  America, 
although  vast  in,,exteut  even  then,  had  not  embraced  several 
great  regions  which  are  now  within  its  boundaries.  Texas,  an 
empire  in  itself,  so  far  as  extent  and  fertility  are  concerned, 
had  not  been  annexed.  Neither  California,  New  Mexico,  nor 
Arizona  had  been  acquired.  Moreover,  a  vast  portion  of  the 
country,  which  is  now  partly  settled  and  fruitful  to  the  hus- 
bandman, or  valuable  to  the  cattle-breeder  and  miner,  was 
then  in  a  state  of  nature,  wholly  unsubdued  and  almost  wholly 
unknown.  Great  forests,  immense  prairies,  wide  as  seas,  lofty 
and  rugged  mountains,  and  tracts  wild  and  desolate  as  the 
deserts  of  old  Arabia  or  young  Australia,  were  then  part  and 
parcel  of  its  territory.  To  the  west  of  the  Mississippi  river  the 
population  was  very  sparse,  save  towards  its  mouth,  in  low  lat- 
itudes ;  and  it  was  largely  composed  of  adventurers,  trappers, 
hunters,  Indian  traders,  and  the  like.  In  the  great  state  of  Ar- 
kansas there  were  but  a  few  thousand  inhabitants,  exclusive  of 
Indians.  In  Missouri  there  were  not  many.  The  settlements 
w^ere  mostly  upon  the  rivers.  On  the  Arkansas,  Little  Rock 
was  the  only  place  of  note.  On  the  Mississippi  and  Missouri 
the  old  French  towns  of  St.  Louis  and  St.  Joseph's  were  the 
seats  of  population  and  trade.  The  latter  was  the  northeastern 
starting  point  of  the  famous  Sante  Fe  trail,  the  route  by  which 
the  interior  of  the  vast  regions  of  the  Southwest  was  reached, 
and  the  bullion  of  New  Mexico  brought  to  the  States.  The 
rich  deposits  of  gold  and  silver  in  our  own  country  were  then 
as  unknown  and  as  unsuspected  as  was  the  existence  of  this 
continent  itself  when  Christopher  Columbus  sailed  from  Palos. 
The  western  parts  of  Missouri  and  Arkansas  were  the  hunting 
grounds  of  powerful  and  predatory  Indian  tribes,  and  the 
resorts  of  buffaloes  in  immense  herds.     Beyond  these  western 


104  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

boundaries  there  was,  practically,  a  vast  terra  incognita,  the 
home  of  the  savage,  the  buffalo,  the  elk,  and  the  grizzly  bear. 
Explorers  sometimes  penetrated  into  the  passes  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  Trappers  and  hunters  sometimes  ventured  in  the 
"  Parks,"  ^vhich  lie  between  their  spurs,  but  their  numbers 
were  scanty  and  their  visits  far  between.  Indian  traders  had 
here  and  there,  in  this  vast  wilderness,  what  they  dignified  by 
the  name  of  forts,  but  which  were  chiefly  mere  trading  posts, 
erected  for  the  purpose  of  traffic  in  buffalo  robes,  skins  and 
furs.  Almost  all  kept,  as  near  as  might  be,  to  the  Santa  Fe 
trail,  for  that  was  about  the  only  known  ro^te,  and  the  sole 
means  of  succor  and  supply  in  times  of  danger  and  scarcity. 
The  Indian  tribes,  though  savage,  improvident,  turbulent  and 
inconstant,  were  then  much  more  powerful  in  numbers  and  or- 
ganization than  they  are  now ;  while  their  peoj^le  were  not 
nearly  as  debased,  individually,  as  they  have  since  become. 
Years  ^fter  that  period,  many  bands  of  Sioux,  who  hunted 
upon  the  ujjper  waters  of  the  Missouri,  about  Fort  Benton, 
had  never  tasted  the  "  fire  water,"  and  thought  Charles  Pri- 
meaux,  manager  of  the  western  posts  of  the  American  Fur 
Company,  the  richest  and  the  greatest  man  on  earth.  He  re- 
ceived by  a  steamboat,  which  painfully  struggled  up  the  Mis- 
souri to  Fort  Benton  about  once  in  two  years,  such  supplies 
of  powder,  lead,  blankets,  etc.,  as  made  the  untutored  savages 
think  the  wealth  of  the  world  was  poured  out  at  his  feet.  To 
the  southward,  the  tribes,  always  nomadic  in  their  habits,  were 
almost  constantly  encroaching  upon  the  grounds  of  other  tribes, 
while  what  they  called  their  own  were  encroached  upon  in 
turn ;  so  that  it  would  now  be  nearly  as  difficult  to  assign  to 
any  one  of  them  its  j)roper  limits,  as  it  was  for  Gibbon  to 
trace  the  wanderings,  the  innumerable  vicissitudes  and  changes 
of  many  of  those  hordes  of  barbarians  who  overthrew  the 
Roman  Empire.  It  is  sufficient  here  to  say  that  the  Indians 
between  the  borders  of  Missouri  and  Arkansas  and  the  Rocky 
Mountains  were  predatory,  fierce,  aggressive,  and  all  horsemen. 
And  it  may  also  be  affirmed  that  many  of  the  whites  with 
whom  they  were  brought  in  contact  were  nearly  as  ignorant 
and  savage,  and  quite  as  greedy  and  unscrupulous  as  them- 
selves. The  neighborhoods  of  the  trading  posts  were  some- 
times the  scenes  of  jirivation  which  bordered  on  famine.     At 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  105 

other  times  they  rang  with  drunken  revelry,  and  barbaric 
23rofusion  was  mingled  with  brawl  and  slaughter. 

On  the  afternoon  of  a  clear,  hot  day,  towards  the  end  of 
August,  a  small  train  was  passing  over  the  practically  bound- 
less prairies  to  the  eastward  of  the  Santa  Fe  trail.  It  was 
trending  to  the  southward  and  eastward,  so  as  to  point  for  those 
head-w^aters  of  the  Arkansas  river  which  rise  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  Ozark  ^lountains.  The  party  had  left  St.  Joseph's 
many  days  before,  and  having  gained  a  good  departure  to  the 
southwest  along  the  trail,  its  leader  had  now  inclined  to  the 
left,  as  if  he  meant  to  strike  the  northwest  corner  of  Arkansas. 
The  train  itself  consisted  of  four  wagons,  draw^n  by  mules  and 
driven  by  negroes.  It  was  preceded  by  two  men  on  horseback, 
and  followed  by  two  more.  Behind  two  of  the  wagons  there 
were  powerful  horses,  clad  in  sheets  and  hoods  of  a  light, 
striped  fabric.  The  pace  the  travellers  went  was  slow%  for  the 
afternoon  was  intensely  hot ;  but  they  proceeded  steadily  along 
tow^ards  a  thin  fringe  of  cottonw^ood  trees,  or,  rather,  bushes, 
dimly  seen  in  the  distance,  near  which  the  leader  knew  he 
should  find  the  great  necessity  of  the  prairie  at  that  season — 
fresh  water.  One  of  the  men  who  rode  in  advance  w^as  tanned 
so  red,  his  beard  was  so  overgrown  and  scorched  by  the  sum- 
mer sun,  and  he  was  so  clad  and  armed  in  the  fashion  of  the 
rovers  of  the  West,  that  he  would  not  have  been  known  by 
his  friends,  nor  even  by  his  enemies,  if  some  of  them  had  met 
him  there  and  then.  It  was  Tom  Scarlet,  Master  of  the  Grange, 
in  the  parish  of  Kidingcumstoke.  His  companion,  the  leader 
and  captain  of  the  band,  \vas  Sassafras,  now  in  his  proper  ele- 
ment upon  a  roving  expedition.  As  he  sat  his  horse  with  the 
ease  and  freedom  of  the  Indian,  and  the  short  stirrup  and  bent 
knee  of  all  the  real  riding  races,  as  contrasted  with  the  long 
leathers  and  straight  leg  of  those  who  teach  equitation,  he 
seemed  to  be  almost  a  part  of  the  animal  he  rode.  Sometimes 
Sassafras  had  gone  as  far  as  New  Mexico  to  the  southwest. 
Upon  other  occasions  he  had  spent  weeks  with  the  chiefs  and 
head  men  of  the  Cherokee  nation  in  their  territory.  Some- 
times he  hunted  and  camped,  and  if  occasion  happened,  fought 
with  the  nomadic  Indians  of  the  plains  and  mountains.  But 
whenever  he  went  upon  his  Western  expeditions  he  always  took 
one  or  two  thoroughbred  horses  with  him,  and  was  ready  to 


106  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

run  against  anybody  for  anything.  After  spending  some  time 
at  his  plantation,  Sassafras  had  taken  Tom  Scarlet  to  St.  Louis. 
While  there  he  received  from  some  boatmen  on  the  river  cer- 
tain information  -svhich  induced  him  to  hurry  back  to  St.  Jo- 
seph's. There  he  speedily  equipped  his  train.  Taking  with 
him  four  of  his  negroes,  and  associating  with  himself  two 
experienced  frontier  men,  he  crossed  the  Missouri  and  set  forth 
boldly  towards  the  southwest.  The  supplies  for  the  needs  of 
himself  and  men  were  neither  expensive  nor  extensive.  Am- 
munition, salt,  coffee,  sugar,  bacon  and  a  few  bags  of  corn-meal 
composed  their  stock,  as  they  knew  they  could  mainly  live  by 
the  game  which  would  fall  to  their  rifles.  The  wagons  were 
loaded,  in  great  part,  with  bags  of  oats  and  bales  of  corn-fodder, 
the  latter  plucked  and  cured  while  the  stalk  was  green.  These 
were  for  the  race-horses.  Sassafras  had  learned,  by  a  long  and 
wide  experience,  that  grass  and  Indian  corn  would  not  suflice 
for  the  race-horse,  if  he  was  to  be  called  upon  to  display  his 
high  powers  of  speed  and  endurance. 

They  journeyed  on.  The  white  men  with  knives  in  their 
belts  and  pistols  in  their  pockets,  their  rifles  ready  to  their 
hands  in  the  wagons.  The  negroes  laughed  and  sung,  while 
the  sweat  rolled  down  their  faces  in  thick  streams. 

"  Is  the  weather  always  as  hot  as  this  in  these  parts  ?"  said 
Tom  Scarlet.  "  I  protest.  Sassafras,  that  I  am  roasted  and 
basted,  like  a  goose  at  Christmas,  and  before  long  I  think  I 
shall  be  done  brown,  if  not  burned  to  a  cinder.  It  is  terribly 
oppressive !" 

"  The  weather  is  a  little  hot — hot  even  for  these  parts,"  said 
Sassafras  ;  "  but  you'll  get  used  to  it  in  a  little  while,  and  think 
it  very  pleasant.  For  my  part,  a  good  deal  of  sunshine  agrees 
with  me.     You'll  get  used  to  it,  and  come  to  like  it." 

"  I  think  I  have  become  used  to  it,  but  as  to  liking  it,  that 
is  another  matter.  Does  it  never  change  here  ?  Ever  since 
we  left  St.  Joseph's  it  has  been  unvarying — blue  sky  and 
blazing  sun." 

"  Well,  it  does  change  a  little,  as  you'll  find  out  before  very 
long,"  said  Sassafras.  "  The  moon  is  near  the  full.  Before 
she  passes  into  her  decline  we  are  likely  to  have  a  storm. 
Before  it  comes  I  hope  to  reach  the  timber  belt  at  the  foot  of 
the  Ozark  spurs,  for  it  rips  heavy  over  these  prairies  sometimes, 
especially  after  a  long  spell  of  dry,  hot  weather." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON,  107 

"  You  seem  to  know  this  wild,  lonely  country  as  the  sailors 
know  the  sea,  aided  by  their  instruments  and  the  sun,  moon, 
and  stars.  Sassafras.     Were  you  born  about  here  ?" 

"Born  about  here!  Why,  no  white  men  have  ever  been 
born  about  here,  and  some  think  there  never  will  be  any. 
But  I  hold  to  another  opinion.  Where  buffaloes  can  live  and 
trains  can  subsist  their  men  and  horses  on  a  passage,  folks  can 
make  settlements  and  thrive.  So  I  think  this  part  of  the 
country  will  finally  be  staked  out  and  bounded,  and  towns 
built,  but  not  yet  for  a  good  while." 

"  You  are  a  Western  man?"  said  Tom,  inquiringly. 

"  A  Western  man,  yes.  But  I  was  born  in  Old  Virginia,  a 
thousand  miles  and  more  to  the  eastward  ;  some  say  nigh  upon 
two  thousand  by  the  way  we  have  to  travel  to  get  there.  My 
father  lived  in  King  GeDrge  county.  I  was  but  a  boy  when 
he  moved  his  family  to  the  West,  after  mother's  death,"  said 
Sassafras,  slowly. 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it,"  said  Tom. 

"  The  all  is  but  little,"  Sassafras  replied.  "  We  were  four — 
'father,  two  sons  and  one  daughter.  I  was  the  youngest.  We 
crossed  the  mountains  with  two  wagons — the  big  Virginia 
wagons  with  hoops  and  cotton  tilts.  We  had  two  thorough- 
bred mares  hitched  to  the  tail  of  the  wagons,  and  underneath 
there  were  chained  two  couple  of  the  best  hounds  that  ever 
ran  a  red  fox  through  the  underbrush.  It's  many  years  ago, 
but  I  remember  all  the  journey.  How  the  wolves  used  to 
howl  away  off  from  our  fire  at  night !  and  how  the  panther 
screeched  in  the  rocks  and  woods  above !" 

"  And  you  went  on  in  this  way  to  Missouri  ?" 

"  No,  no !  we  settled  in  Kentucky,  and  lived  there  ;  but  we 
had  ill  luck  after  some  time.  My  father  and  brother  were 
killed  in  a  fight.  I  have  wiped  that  score  out  since,"  said  Sas- 
safras, sternly,  while  there  was  a  gleam  of  fire  from  his  eyes 
that  made  his  companion  start.  "  My  sister  married  and  her 
husband  is  a  very  good  man.  After  that  I  got  restless  and 
went  further  west." 

They  rode  on  in  silence  for  some  time.  Then  Sassafras 
cleared  his  throat,  and  said,  "  I  visit  the  graves  in  Kentucky 
once  a  year,  and  my  sister  brings  her  children  there  to  meet 
me.    Sometimes  I  go  to  Virginia  to  the  graves  we  have  there." 


108  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N. 

"  It  is  good,"  said  his  companion. 

*'  So  I  find  it.  In  old  King  George  my  grandfathers  and 
grandmothers  and  all  our  kin  before  them,  lie,  as  well  as  my 
mother,"  said  Sassafras. 

"  I'm  glad  of  that.  Men  should  hold  their  forefathers  in 
remembrance ;  be  proud  of  them.  They  have  no  reason  to  be 
ashamed  to  visit  the  places  of  their  burial.  Some  have  said 
that  you  Americans  cared  nothing  for  old  homes  and  the 
graves  of  the  households  that  were  your  ancestors." 

"  It's  a  lie  !"  said  Sassafras,  earnestly,  "  at  least,  so  far  as  we 
of  Virginia  are  concerned.  Of  the  down-east  people  I  don't 
know  much,  but  from  what  I  do  know,  I  believe  it  to  be  a  lie 
in  regard  to  them,  also." 

They  rode  on  a  little  further,  when  Sassafras  said,  "Look  at 
our  horses.     What  do  you  think  ails  them  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know.  There's  something  unusual,"  replied  Tom. 
"  Perhaps  they  smell  the  water,  or  a  wild  beast  lias  passed 
here." 

"It  isn't  the  water,"  said  Sassafras.  "  They  have  been  here 
before,  and  know  where  that  is  as  well  as  I  do.  No  wild  beast 
has  passed  that  I  or  they  know  of,  although  a  wolf  may 
have  prowled  by  here  last  night.  There  are  buffalo  within  a 
few  miles  of  us.  These  horses  are  old  buffalo  hunters,  and 
scent  a  herd  long  before  w^e  can  see  it.  AYe  may  have  tongue 
and  steaks  for  supper." 

The  herd  of  bison,  a  small  one,  was  soon  seen  leisurely  graz- 
ing along  one  of  those  hollows  of  the  prairie  in  which  the 
grass  was  freshest.  There  were  several  bulls  in  the  van,  great 
fellows,  with  massive  heads  and  horns,  gigantic  shoulders  and 
withers,  and  wild,  shaggy  fronts. 

"  Keep  quiet,"  said  Sassafras.  "  AVc  must  let  the  Gumbos 
pass  them  to  the  right  and  left,  and  get  upon  their  flanks. 
Our  horses  are  pretty  well  tuckered  out,  and  if  the  herd  stam- 
pede the  slow^est  of  them  will  distance  us." 

"  Gumbos  !  are  there  Indians  in  sight,  too  ?"  said  Tom. 

"  Indians!  no.  The  Gumbos  are  the  Frenchmen — our  men. 
They  are  Gumlio  French,  which  means  the  French  of  St.  Louis 
and  St.  Jo.  and  all  the  frontier.  First-rate  men  they  are,  too, 
for  the  plains,  the  rivers  and  the  mountains." 

"  Can't  we  dismount,  and  stalk  the  buffaloes  mth  our  rifles?" 
said  Tom  Scarlet. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N.  109 

«  No,  you  can't  stalk  buffalo  a-foot.  They  smell  the  powder 
in  the  gun,  some  say,"  replied  Sassafras. 

"  I  have  heard  the  same  of  crows  in  England,  but  I  don't 
believe  it,"  returned  Tom. 

"  Nor  I,  They  can  smell  the  man  that  carries  the  gun,  and 
as  he  is  out  of  sight  they  are  all  the  more  wary,"  said  Sassa- 
fras. "  A  good  many  things  concerning  wild  birds  and  ani- 
mals are  put  down  by  men  who  know  nothing  about  it." 

This  observation  is  as  true  now  as  it  was  then.  It  was 
gravely  announced  recently  by  the  London  Spectator,  in  an 
article  on  the  power  of  sea-birds  to  estimate  distances,  that  at 
a  certain  place  they  had  calculated  the  difference  of  range  be- 
tween shot-guns  and  rifles  as  soon  as  the  latter  were  introduced, 
and  in  two  or  three  days  kept  just  outside  of  the  range  of  two 
thousand  yards.  The  author  of  this  valuable  addition  to  nat- 
ural history  was  evidently  unaware  of  the  fact  that  a  hundred 
riflemen  could  not  hit  a  sea-bird  at  two  thousand  yards  once  a 
week,  if  they  shot  every  day  and  all  day  long. 

The  train  was  halted.  The  proper  dispositions  were  made, 
and  the  men  let  their  eager  horses  go  for  the  buffaloes.  A  cow 
in  good  condition,  and  a  yearling,  fell  to  their  fire.  The  sun 
now  declined,  slow  and  majestic,  towards  the  edge  of  the  west- 
ern horizon,  and  all  that  quarter  of  the  heavens  was  flooded 
with  rosy  light.  The  camping  place  at  the  stunted  cottonwood, 
by  the  scanty  pool  of  the  creek,  was  reached.  The  weary  horses 
were  relieved  of  their  riders,  the  mules  hobbled  and  turned 
loose,  and  the  race-horses  watered  and  fed.  The  men  ate  their 
evening  meal  and  smoked  their  pipes.  Then  the  first  watch 
was  set ;  and  while  the  sentinel  remained  silent  and  alert,  the 
others  stretched  themselves  upon  buffalo  robes  and  fell  asleep. 
The  middle  watch  was  kept  by  Tom  Scarlet.  He  paced  to 
and  fro  by  the  wagon.  The  moon  had  risen  high  in  the  heav- 
ens, and  now  flooded  the  prairie,  far  and  near,  with  a  sea  of 
silver  light,  whose  even  wave  no  shadow  broke.  A  light  fog, 
close  to  the  ground,  took  the  white  beams,  and  looked  like 
smooth  water.  The  scene  was  grand  in  its  sublimity  and  awful 
in  its  silent  desolation.  No  sound  broke  the  silence  of  the 
night.  No  howl  of  wolf,  nor  hoot  of  owl,  nor  cry  of  whip- 
poor-will  invaded  it.  The  very  men  and  horses  might  have 
been  dead — they  were  so  still  and  motionless — remains  of  a 


110  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

band  of  explorers,  \Yhose  bones  would  whiten  in  the  realm  of 
the  mighty  and  mysterious  wilderness.  The  young  English- 
man felt  the  influence  of  the  scene,  the  hour  and  the  place — 
the  place !  one  spot  in  what  seemed  boundless  space.  He 
thought  of  his  home  in  the  fair  vale  of  the  populous  little 
island  over  the  sea.  The  sadness  of  the  solitude  grew  upon 
him.  But  Sassafras  rose  silently  from  the  shaggy  robe  which 
was  his  couch,  and  broke  the  spell,  saying  : 

"Watchman,  what  of  the  night?" 

"  Nothing ;  but  it  seems  so  lonely  here,"  replied  Tom.  "  We 
might  fancy  ourselves  the  only  beings  in  a  wide  world  shone 
upon  by  yonder  moon.     Sassafras,  1  am  sad  to-night." 

They  sat  down  together,  and  talked  in  the  low  tones  befit- 
ting the  pale  hour  and  the  solemn  scene  that  lay  before  them. 
The  AVestern  man,  in  spite  of  his  wandering  life,  had  read 
much,  in  a  few  books.  His  memory  was  retentive,  his  pene- 
tration quick  and  deep.  The  young  Englishman  was  surprised 
to  find  him  well-informed  upon  topics  of  which  he  knew  but 
little  himself.  Sassafras  loved  history,  especially  the  history  of 
England  and  of  this  country,  as  taught  in  the  lives,  the  works, 
and  the  famous  exploits  of  their  great  men.  After  some  time, 
their  conversation  gradually  diverged  to  the  subject  of  their 
expedition. 

"If  we  have  been  running  a  false  scent  after  all,  it  will  be 
very  provoking.  Sassafras.  I  shall,  however,  have  had  experi- 
ence of  a  region  vast  and  wild  beyond  conception  to  me  before, 
and  of  a  way  of  life  glorious  in  its  freedom  and  the  absence 
of  petty  things  and  cares." 

*  "All  true,  Tom,"  said  Sassafras ;  "  you  have  left  petty  cares 
behind  you.  But  then  you  have  also  left  the  true-hearted  girl, 
and  the  warm  friends,  and  you  will  rejoice  to  see  them  again. 
We  are  on  no  false  scent.  We  shall  hit  the  head  of  the 
snake's  trail,  instead  of  beginning  at  the  tail  of  it,  that's  all." 
"  You  still  think  so,  do  you  ?"  said  Tom,  anxiously. 
"  Do  I  ?  Ay,  I  do.  It  isn't  a  moonlight  night  in  a  lone 
camping  place  that'll  shake  my  conclusions,"  replied  Sassa- 
fras. "  The  information  received  from  Orleans  was  mystical 
in  words,  no  doubt,  but  true  enough  in  substance.  Staples 
was  bound  up  the  river  and  West  by  way  of  the  Arkansas, 
making  for  the  Ozarks.  Your  man,  Jagger,  was  with  him, 
and  he  had  the  White  Horse." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  m 

"  Suppose  this  information  should  be  the  device  of  an  enemy, 
instead  of  the  ^va^ning  of  a  friend,  and  intended  to  lure  me 
into  these  wild  parts  ?"  said  Tom. 

"  There  is  not  a  bit  of  sense  in  supposing  any  such  thing.  I 
sent  word  to  friends  in  New  Orleans  to  make  inquiries.  This 
information  comes  not  from  them,  but  no  doubt  from  somebody 
who  heard  from  them,  and  who  knows  Jagger  and  all  hfs 
moves;  who  is  also  your  friend,  but  don't  want  Jagger  to 
know  it  just  yet.  This  is  the  lay  of  it,  as  sure  as  my  name's 
Sassafras.'^ 

"  I  hope  it  is  so,  but  I  have  no  friend  in  New  Orleans,"  said 
Tom,  after  a  pause. 

"  It  must  be  so,"  said  Sassafras,  earnestly.  "No  enemy  who 
wanted  to  decoy  you  into  these  parts  to  your  harm  would  have 
decoyed  me  along  with  you,  unless  he  was  the  biggest  fool  that 
ever  sailed  up  the  passes  of  the  Mississippi  river.  Why, 
man,  none  other  of  my  sort  has  as  much  influence  with  the  In- 
dians of  these  plains  as  I  have.  I  can  raise  a  '  power,'  as  they 
called  it  in  Old  England,  in  the  days  of  the  Eoses  and  the 
Barons.  Old  Staples  has  as  much  influence  as  I  have,  if  not 
more,  in  the  Cherokee  Nation  ;  but  this  business  must  be  set- 
tled here,  where  the  red  horsemen,  who  roam  and  hunt  all  the 
way  from  the  Ozarks  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  will  be  the  re- 
ferees. They  don't  like  Staples  a  bit  too  much ;  and  he's  no 
favorite  at  all  of  the  Comanches  and  Kiowas,  whose  country 
is  further  to  the  Southwest.  Enemy  !  why  I  want  to  show 
you  !  You've  no  enemy  in  all  this  land  but  Jagger.  Nobody 
knows  who  you  are  but  me  and  him  ;  and  he  won't  know  you 
when  you  meet  again,  if  you  keep  a  still  tongue." 

"  He  may  have  told  all  sorts  of  lies  about  me,"  said  Tom. 
"  The  man  is  a  villain.  Sassafras,  capable  of  anything.  He 
knows  that  I  was  hard  upon  his  heels  at  Liverpool,  but  unfor- 
tunately, by  the  advice  of  Cox,  I  took  ship  for  Baltimore, 
while  Jagger  must  have  sailed  for  New  Orleans." 

"  It  was  not  unfortunate  that  you  came  to  Baltimore,  but 
all  the  other  way.  You  and  I  met  there,  and  I  reckon  my- 
self a  gainer  by  it,"  said  Sassafras. 

Tom  thanked  him  warmly. 

"  Jagger  would  have  had  the  best  of  you  at  New  Orleans. 
I  believe  you  said  he  had  been  there  before  ?"  said  Sassafras. 


112  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOX. 

"  I  said  he  had  been  in  the  West  Indies." 

"It's  the  same  thing.  FeUows  of  his  hang  and  stamp 
ahvays  turn  up  at  Orleans  at  last,  when  they  visit  the  West 
India  Islands — that  is,  the  Windward  Islands.  When  we  got 
this  news  at  St.  Jo.,  concerning  him  and  Old  Staples,  I  said  to 
myself,  '  Bo3's,  I  know  where  you're  pinting  for,  and  you'll 
meet  somebody  at  the  post,  about  the  spurs  of  the  Ozarks,  that 
you  little  think  of.'  Luckily  an  exj^edition  was  about  to  set 
out  for  the  head-waters  of  the  Kansas  river,  with  supplies,  and 
to  hold  a  talk  with  some  of  the  chiefs.  By  that  I  sent  word 
to  a  fast  friend  of  mine,  a  chief  among  the  Cheyennes,  whose 
main  hunting-ground  is  now  about  Solomon's  Fork.  I 
requested  him  to  cross  the  plains  and  be  at  an  old  rendezvous 
of  ours  early  in  September,  or  a  little  earlier  if  he  could." 

"And  do  you  think  the  Indian  will  come?"  said  Tom. 

"As  sure  as  water  runs  down  hill.  Cinnamon  will  come,  if 
alive,  with  a  band  of  his  young  men — a  band  able  to  hold 
their  own  against  the  drunken,  crazy  set  that  are  mostly  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  post  at  this  time  of  year." 

"  Well,  then,  Jagger  may  have  said  anything,  and  may  say 
what  he  will,  and  not  harm  me  ?" 

"  You  are  a  young  man  of  plenty  of  sense,  in  most  ways, 
but  as  innocent  as  a  baby  in  a  venture  of  this  kind,"  said 
Sassafras.  "  Jagger  will  never  mention  your  name ;  he'll 
think  you  are  a  good  thousand  miles  away,  and  probably  four 
or  five  thousand — gone  back  to  England.  Why  would  he 
mention  you  ?  He  would  as  soon  see  the  d — 1  as  you  any  of 
these  days,  because  you  know  that  he  has  run  away  with  a 
heap  of  money  belonging  to  other  folks  and  stole  your  horse. 
!Now,  I  can  tell  you  that  the  people  in  these  parts,  whether 
about  the  towns,  in  the  woods  or  on  the  prairies,  don't  hanker 
after  horse-thieves,  except  ai  the  jope's  end  or  through  the 
sights  of  a  rifle." 

There  was  great  significance  in  the  way  Sassafras  said  this. 

"  You  say  Captain  Staples  is  a  shrewd  man.  Is  he  honest 
and  fair-minded  as  well  as  shrewd  ?"  said  Tom. 

"Honest!  Lord  bless  your  innocent  heart  alive!  he's  the 
d — dest  rogue  in  North  America!  But  it  ain't  everybody 
that  can  find  him  out  though.  I  soon  found  him  out.  He's 
cunning  as  a  fox  and  treacherous  as  a  wolf." 


THE  WHITE  HOESE  OF  WOOTTOK.  113 

"  You  describe  a  man  ^vitliout  a  single  good  quality." 

"  Xo,  I  don't,"  rejDlied  Sassafras.  "  I  don't  say  lie  is  without 
plenty  of  courage  of  a  certain'  sort.  He  has  it.  Show  him 
prey,  and  he's  fierce  as  a  tiger.  But  he  grows  old,  and  is  no 
longer  quick  and  prompt  enough  for  open  fight  with  a  man 
like  me." 

"  What  hold  can  Jagger  have  established  upon  a  man  like 
this  ?"  said  Tom.  "  I  have  seen  the  fellow  in  a  row  at  home ; 
and  when  there  were  not  strong  odds  on  his  side  he  was  chicken- 
hearted." 

"  He  has  no  hold  on  Staples.  It  is  nothing  but  the  attrac- 
tion of  his  gold.  The  old  man  swings  to  it  like  the  needle  to 
the  north  star.  Staples  has  established  the  hold  on  him ;  and 
he  is  not  likely  to  let  go  wdiile  the  other  man's  money  lasts. 
Some  difficulty  we  shall  have  in  managing  the  matter  when 
we  meet  them  at  the  post.  Your  countryman  is  of  no  account 
out  here.  It  would  be  very  easy  to  settle  with  him.  Staples 
is  the  nut  that  is  hard  to  crack.  We  might  buy  him  off,  but 
it  would  cost  a  sight  of  money ;  and  I'm  opposed,  on  principle, 
to  paying  him  a  red  cent." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Tom.  "  The  horse  is  mine.  He  has  been 
paid  for  once,  and  he  shall  not  be  paid  for  again." 

"  Good  !  The  next  thing  is,  we  may  gamble  for  him,  or 
run  for  him ;  and  win  him  at  poker,  or  in  a  race." 

"  But  we  might  lose.  Sassafras,  and  that  would  be  equiva- 
lent to  paying  twice  over  and  not  getting  him  at  last.  We 
must  find  some  other  plan." 

"  Very  well,"  replied  Sassafras.  "  If  no  better  way  ofiTers,  we 
can  take  him  by  the  art  of  war — a  mixture  of  force  and  strat- 
agem. By  making  all  the  Indians,  save  a  select  band  of  Cin- 
namon's men,  drunk,  we  can  get  up  a  free  fight,  and  while 
h — I's  bells  are  ringing  can  run  the  horse  off  to  a  cache  I  know 
of  before  Staples  and  Jagger  can  tell  that  the  hair  is  still 
upon  their  heads." 

"  I  do  not  think  it  will  do,"  said  Tom.  "  Innocent  blood 
would  be  shed.  The  horse  is  my  property.  When  I  have 
found  to  a  certainty  where  he  is,  cannot  I  recover  him  by  the 
law  ?" 

"  The  law !  why  bless  your  innocent  soul,  '  Old  Father 
Antic,  the  law,'  was  never  within  some  hundreds  of  miles  of 
8 


114  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO K 

this  place.  There's  no  law  here  but  such  as  white  meu  and 
red  men  can  make  good  with  knives  and  rifles,"  replied  Sas- 
safras, laughing. 

"  It  is  true,  we  are  far  in  the  desert,  but  the  law  has  long 
arms.     Are  we  not  still  in  the  United  States  ?" 

"  Ay,  lad,  in  the  territory  of  the  United  States,  that  we  be, 
and  if  we  were  to  pass  a  thousand  miles  further  to  the  west- 
ward we  should  be  still.  But  only  a  little  of  this  land  is 
staked  and  bounded,  like  lots  in  St.  Jo.,  and  no  sheriff  or 
marshal  has  ever  served  a  writ  here.  We  are  in  what  is  called 
the  Indian  Territory,  an  immense  country  that  white  men 
know  but  very  little  about,  as  yet — prairies  and  forests ;  plains 
and  mountains  ;  then  more  plains  and  more  mountains  and 
barren  wastes,  and  big  rivers  that  in  flood  time  come  thunder- 
ing down  to  make  up  the  great  streams  of  the  Missouri  and 
the  Arkansas." 

With  this  Sassafras  rose,  and  the  convei-sation  ceased. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"Fair  laughs  the  morn,  and  soft  the  zephyr  blows, 

AVhile  gaily  sailing  o'er  the  azure  realm, 
In  gallant  trim  the  gilded  vessel  goes, 

Youth  at  the  prow,  and  ])leasure  at  the  helm, 
Unmindful  of  the  treacherous  whirlwind's  sway, 
That,  hushed  in  grim  repose,  expects  his  evening  prey." 

IVTEXT  day,  and  the  next,  the  journey  of  the  party  was  con- 
-^^  tinned  towards  the  south  and  east,  Sassafras  and  Tom 
Scarlet  riding  in  the  lead  as  before.  The  negroes,  merrily 
carolling  their  old  plantation  songs,  followed  with  the  teams 
and  wagons.  The  Frenchmen  brought  up  the  rear.  The 
swells  of  the  prairie  now  rose  higher  at  almost  every  mile,  and 
it  was  cut  and  scraped  here  and  there  by  ravines,  in  crossing 
some  of  which  the  quick  eye  of  the  frontier  man  detected  the 
tracks  of  wolves.  Water  was  more  frequent,  and  at  some 
pools  they  saw  where  buflttloes  had  wallowed  in  the  mud  upon 
the  marge.  The  dead  stillness  of  the  prairie  left  behind  was 
exchanged  for  sounds  and  sights  of  life,  even  if  it  were  but 
the  hoarse  croak  and  flight  of  ravens,  which  sailed  in  circles 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  115 

overliead  on  ragged  wings.  At  length  Sassafras  paused  and 
pointed  out,  in  the  distance,  the  loom  of  a  range  of  hills  to  the 
south-southeast.  They  were  the.  spurs  of  the  Ozark  Moun- 
tains, and  on  the  far  side  of  them,  Tom  was  told,  where  the 
slopes  were  sheltered  from  the  sweep  of  the  prairie  winds  in 
winter,  they  should  find  belts  of  timber,  white  oaks  and  black 
walnuts. 

The  young  Englishman  had  now  grown  very  weary  of  the 
blue  above  and  the  brown  below.  The  heat  still  continued. 
The  same  unclouded  sky  was  over  all ;  the  fervent  sun  still  cast 
its  burning  rays  upon  the  dry  or  reeking  earth.  It  was  sorely 
oppressive.  The  mules  stood  it  well,  much  better  than  the 
horses.  The  approach  to  the  uplands  was  good  news  to  Tom 
Scarlet.  The  notion  of  hills  and  groves,  clear  springs  and 
green  trees,  verdant  slopes  and  grassy  valleys,  took  possession 
of  him,  and  he  began  to  lament  that  he  had  left  Danger  at 
the  plantation  near  St.  Jo. 

"  Sassafras,"  said  he,  "  I'd  give  a  trifle  if  we  had  brought 
Danger  with  us.     He  is  a  rare  horse  for  a  timber  country." 

"  Horse  for  a  timber  country !"  replied  the  man  of  the  fron- 
tier ;  "  the  timber  in  the  parts  hereabouts  isn't  post-and-rail 
fences,  between  grass  lands,  with  a  clump  of  oak  trees  here, 
another  of  ash  yonder,  and  another  of  elm  a  little  further  off. 
It's  woods ;  small  trees,  but  many  of  them,  about  the  rocky 
ground  ;  big  trees,  the  growth  of  ages,  in  the  rich,  deep  places 
where  the  good  soil  has  gathered  thick.  Underneath  their 
arms  lie  the  mouldering  trunks  of  other  giants,  grown  long 
ago  and  overthrown  by  the  storms  of  other  days.  The  squalls 
come  through  the  shutes  between  the  hills  with  a  power  some- 
times, and  level  miles  of  tall  timber  flat  in  a  minute.  Why, 
the  Indians  can  ride  little  better  than  a  foot  pace  there ;  and 
unless  Danger  is  quicker  than  a  cat,  he'd  be  down  before  he 
had  gone  five  rods." 

"  But  if  we  had  him  we  might  run  him  a  race  at  the  trad- 
ing post.  It's  my  belief  he  can  give  any  horse  in  this  part  of 
the  country  a  stone  of  weight,  and  a  beating.  I  fully  believe 
that,"  said  Tom. 

"  I  don't  think  he  could  give  one  or  two  a  pound,"  said 
Sassafras,  glancing  over  his  shoulder  at  the  gray  mare  and  the 
bay  horse  that  leisurely  followed  the  wagons.     "  Good  as  he 


116  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

may  have  been  in  England,  I  would  not  trust  him  here.  Let 
him  stay  at  St.  Jo.  My  boys  ^Yill  gallop  him  along  gently, 
and  get  him  acclimated.  Late  along  in  the  fall,  when  the 
corn  shocks  stand  in  the  fields,  and  the  shucked  heaps  are 
yellow  on  the  black  ground ;  when  the  leaves  show  crimson, 
russet  and  gold  among  the  green,  and  the  hoar-frost  glistens 
on  the  grass  in  the  first  beams  of  the  morning  sun,  we  may 
perhaps  bring  him  to  a  race ;  that  is,  if  we  get  back  to  the 
settlements  in  time.  Besides,  you  told  me  he  was  not  alto- 
gether thoroughbred." 

"  Yes,  he  must  be  well  enough  bred  for  this  country,  as  the 
stain  is  remote.  He  is  by  Stumps  out  of  a  mare  by  Sultan, 
her  dam  by  Walton." 

"  Well,  go  on ;  that  ain't  half  enough.  What  about  the 
dam  of  the  Walton  mare  ?"  said  Sassafras. 

Mr.  Scarlet  looked  at  Sassafras  as  if  surprised.  Then  he 
answered  : 

"  Concerning  her  there  is  some  doubt ;  she  was  certainly  got 
by  Tramp,  and  many  said  that  her  dam  was  by  Dick  An- 
drews, out  of  a  thoroughbred  mare." 

"  That  story  won't  hold.  A  Dick  Andrews  mare  would 
hardly  have  been  put  to  Tramp,  as  he  was  got  by  Dick  An- 
drews," said  Sassafras. 

"  That's  true  enough !  In  fact.  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  and  John 
Bullfinch  say  that  the  dam  of  the  Tramp  mare  ims  out  of  a 
thoroughbred  mare,  but  by  a  gypsy  pony,  instead  of  by  Dick 
Andrews.  This  pony  was  well-bred  himself,  and  got  into  the 
pasture  where  the  mare  was  at  spring  grass.  So  you  see,  even 
if  this  is  the  true  bill.  Danger  is  almost  thoroughbred,"  replied 
Tom. 

"  Ah,  that  almod  !  How  many  races  have  been  almost  won 
that  would  have  been  quite  won  if  the  horse  had  been  quiie, 
instead  of  almost,  thoroughbred  !  I  go  in  for  a  clear  pedigree, 
especially  for  stock  to  run  over  a  distance  of  ground  and 
repeat  heats.  When  there's  a  black  drop  in  it,  it  is  sure  to  show 
itself  some  time,  and  it  generally  happens  at  a  very  inconve- 
nient time." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  your  horses — these  behind  us — 
have  full,  clean  pedigrees,  according  to  English  rules  ?" 
"  I  certainly  do.   As  clean  as  any  in  your  Stud-Book.   They 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  117 

are  without  a  cold  cross,  right  back  to  Eclipse  and  King 
Herod,  Matchem  and  Snap,"  said  Sassafras. 

"  Why,  how  can  that  be.  Sassafras  ?" 

"  In  this  way :  our  forefathers  in  Virginia,  Maryland  and 
the  Carolinas  imported  from  England  many  horses  and  mares 
of  the  best  blood  in  the  kingdom.  The  importations  of  others, 
as  good,  has  been  going  on,  in  a  degree,  ever  since.  The  thor- 
oughbred blood  has  been  kept  unsullied  by  any  other  strain ; 
and  these  are  of  it,"  said  Sassafras,  looking  back  at  the  bay 
and  gray. 

"  It  may  be  as  you  say ;  but  I  hardly  believe  that  the  thor- 
oughbred horse  of  real  high  stamp  can  have  maintained  his 
excellence  here." 

«  Why  not  ?" 

"Well,  because  things  are  so  different.  The  country  is 
vast,  overwhelming !     But  it  isn't  like  England,  you  know." 

"  Did  you  expect  it  to  be  like  England — come,  Tom  ?"  said 
Sassafras. 

"  Well,  not  altogether,  but  in  a  measure  I  did." 

"That's  where  all  the  trouble  between  Englishmen  and 
Americans  comes  from,"  said  Sassafras,  earnestly.  "  Each  wants 
to  find  the  other  country  like  his  own,  and  the  other  people 
like  his  own  people.  And  because  God  never  made  the  coun- 
tries alike,  and  in  the  nature  of  things  the  people  can't  be 
just  alike,  they  pitch  in  and  abuse  one  another." 

Mr.  Scarlet  stared  at  the  roving,  raciug  philosopher  for 
about  a  minute.     He  then  said  : 

"  I  shall  never  speak  ill  of  this  country  or  of  its  people. 
I  should  be  a  fool  or  a  very  ungrateful  man  if  I  did ;  but 
there  are  things  here  I  don't  think  I  could  put  up  with  perma- 
nently." 

"  What  may  those  things  be  ?"  said  Sassafras. 

"The  heat  has  been  intolerable  for  two  or  three  months, 
and  before  we  left  the  settlements  and  wooded  land  the  mos- 
quitoes w^ere  awful." 

Sassafras  laughed. 

"You  had  a  very  light  touch  of  the  mosquitoes,  considering." 

"  Considering  what  ?" 

"Considering  the  time  of  year,"  said  Sassafras.  "How- 
ever, a  few  musquitoes  are  too  many  for  strangers.     Like 


118  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON, 

the  giant  in  the  story  book,  they  can  smell  the  blood  of  an 
Englishman.  I  remember  a  boxer  who  had  lauded  at  Orleans, 
a  stout,  ruddy  fellow,  by  the  name  of  Bonnox,  brought  over 
from  Hampshire  by  the  sailor  Cox.  On  the  second  morning 
after  his  arrival  he  looked  as  if  he  had  lately  had  the  small- 
pox, or  had  been  having  a  turn-up  with  somebody  and  got  the 
worst  of  it.  His  eyes  were  bunged  up,  and  his  nose  was  well- 
nigh  as  big  as  a  champagne  bottle.  *  Halloo,  Bonnox !'  said  I, 
*  have  you  been  fighting  here  already  ?'  '  Noa,  master,  noa  T 
says  he.  *  It's  the  d — d  insecks  as  worrits  me.  Blast  such  a 
country  as  this,  I  say  !  Give  me  Old  England,  even  if  we're 
never  able  to  bring  off  a  civil  fight  there  again." 

When  Tom  had  laughed,  Sassafras  continued  : 

*'  Such  men  .as  Bonnox,  if  it's  summer  time,  generally  go 
back  home  after  a  stay  here  of  about  a  fortnight  or  three 
"weeks.  That  time  is  spent,  for  the  most  part  drunk,  in  expa- 
tiating upon  the  joys  of  life  in  England  and  swearing  at  every- 
thing in  this  benighted  country.  There  is  another  class  much 
more  to  blame,  because  they  ought  to  know  better  than  the 
poor  ignorant  fellows  of  the  Bonnox  stamp." 

"  And  what  say  those  ?" 

"  O,  it  runs  after  this  fashion :  <  Having  seen  a  great  deal 
of  the  country,  and  given  its  people,  institutions,  climate,  and 
so  forth  the  most  careful  consideration,  I  have  come  to  the  im- 
partial conclusion  that  everything  here  is  wrong.  The  State 
House  at  Albany  is  a  wretched  building.  At  Buffalo  the 
houses  are  built  of  wood,  and  the  people  use  it  for  fuel,  which 
was  once  the  wasteful  and  improvident  practice  of  the  lower 
classes  in  England.  I  admit  that  there  is  coal  at  Pittsburgh, 
but  the  lamentable  truth  is  that  it  is  nothing  like  as  black  as 
our  English  coal  is.  The  country  about  the  Ohio  river  is  too 
hilly.  About  the  Mississippi  it  is  too  flat.  The  Missouri  is  a 
muddy,  turbulent  stream,  not  at  all  like  the  Avon  or  the 
Thames.  Finally,  there's  no  ale  anywhere,  and  the  American 
water  is  unfit  to  drink.'  " 

After  another  laugh,  Sassafras  continued : 

"  This  is  the  style  of  the  people  who  after  a  few  weeks  in 
this  country  go  home  to  England  and  write  a  book  about  it,  or 
a  few  letters  to  the  newspapers,  in  which  this  western  laud  is 
rode  over  rou2:h-shod.    Now  the  men  know  no  more  about  this 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  119 

country  than  a  hen  scratching  on  the  toj)  of  a  hill  knows  of 
the  ores  that  lie  beneath.  But  then  in  consequence  of  what 
one  fool  has  published  in  England  up  jumps  a  bigger  fool  here 
and  denounces  England,  lock,  stock  and  barrel,  for  everything 
she  has  done  since  Julius  Caesar's  time.  So  the  game  goes  on 
— see-saw !  you're  another  ! — and  it's  carried  on  in  the  main 
by  those  wlio  think  themselves  above  their  neighbors.  The 
truth  is  that  the  prevailing  notions  in  the  Eastern  cities  about 
the  people  of  the  West  are  no  more  correct  than  those  of  the 
conceited  English  tourists.  Some  day  they'll  find  out  that 
there  is  a  little  of  this  country  outside  of  Boston  and  New 
York." 

"There  is  a  great  deal  of  misconception,  no  doubt.  To 
understand  things  rightly,  we  must  see  them  close  and  observe 
them  carefully,"  Tom  remarked. 

"  True,  my  friend.  Look  at  that  speck  yonder  in  the  sky," 
said  Sassafras,  pointing  to  the  southeast.  "What  do  you 
think  that  is  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  It  looks  like  a  skylark  hovering  high  over 
a  brown  harvest  field,"  replied  Tom. 

"  That  is  an  eagle,  ten  feet  or  thereabouts  across  the  wings," 
said  Sassafras.  "  But  we  must  better  the  pace.  The  change 
in  the  weather  I  told  you  of  will  come  at  sundown  or  soon 
after,  and  we  ought  to  be  off*  the  levels  and  to  the  leeward  of 
a  hill  when  the  storm  strikes." 

To  the  untaught  Englishman  there  was  little  or  nothing  in 
the  aspect  of  the  heavens  to  indicate  the  storm  which  Sassafras 
so  confidently  predicted  as  close  at  hand ;  but  to  the  expe- 
rienced eye  of  the  latter,  and  those  of  the  Frenchmen,  the 
signs  were  unmistakable.  The  cloud,  no  bigger  than  a  man's 
hand,  had  appeared  upon  the  western  horizon,  and  they  knew 
what  would  speedily  follow.  They  held  a  brief  consultation. 
Then  the  course  of  their  journey  was  slightly  changed  and  its 
rate  increased.  The  mules,  stimulated  by  the  whips  and  loud 
cries  of  the  negroes,  were  put  to  their  best  pace  wherever  the 
ground  was  good.  The  party  held  straight  for  the  nearest  of 
the  bold  ridges  which  bounded  the  prairie.  It  was  still  at 
some  distance,  but  had  taken  form  and  substance  to  the  eye— a 
rough,  sharp  slope,  with  a  few  stunted,  twisted  trees  and  strag- 
glin'g  bushes  on  its  northwestern  front.     Sassafras  now  looked 


120  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO X. 

over  bis  right  shoulder  frequently  aiul  called  to  the  negroes  to 
hasten.  They,  iu  turn,  shouted  to  the  mules  lustily,  calling 
them  by  name,  sometimes  with  coaxing  and  entreaty,  and 
again  with  loud  yells  and  vituperative  epithets.  The  sun  was 
still  tolerably  high  iu  the  heavens,  and  the  heat  was  even 
greater  than  at  his  meridian.  The  light  eastern  breeze  had 
almost  died  away  to  a  close,  sultry  calm.  In  the  western  board 
there  appeard  a  large  bank  of  pale,  woolly-looking  clouds, 
Avith  here  and  there  a  white,  rounded  dome  rising  above  it. 
Gradually,  and  as  if  inflated  by  some  vast  power  within,  these 
domes  swelled  upwards  and  outwards,  and  threw  forth  other 
and  loftier  domes  of  the  like  shape  and  color.  Great  snowy 
mountains  seemed  to  be  heaped  one  on  another  in  the  w^est, 
with  other  mountains,  many  and  huge,  struggling  and  push- 
ing from  below,  in  all  that  quarter  of  the  sky.  It  was  as  if 
the  powers  of  the  air  were  gathering  their  forces  on  the  con- 
fines of  the  earth  to  try  and  overwhelm  it.  Slowdy,  and  with 
the  calm  grandeur  of  nature  before  a  great  convulsion,  these 
white  aerial  mountains,  half  earth,  half  cloud  to  the  erring 
sight,  rose  to  meet  the  declining  sun.  He  sank  in  their  eclipse, 
gilding  the  edges  and  domes  of  the  moving  mountains  for  a 
few  moments  with  rims  of  burning  gold.  Then  a  sombre 
shade  fell  upon  the  western  world  from  the  towering  clouds, 
whose  bases  had  become  as  black  as  night.  The  ravens  flew  to 
the  left.  There  was  a  low  m.oan  over  the  land,  as  if  the  earth 
drew  breath  for  the  coming  struggle  in  one  last  flutter  of  the 
eastern  breeze. 

The  travellers  reached  the  ridge,  and  with  shoulders  to  the 
wheels  and  loud  shouts  to  the  mules,  forced  the  wagons  up  it. 
They  crossed  hastily,  and  descended  into  a  low  bottom,  among 
trees  of  some  size  and  thick  underbrush.  Here  Sassafras  soon 
found  the  refuge  iu  which  he  intended  to  pass  the  night.  It 
was  a  rude,  half-ruined  structure  of  logs,  bark  and  saplings, 
built  in  the  centre  of  a  group  of  the  largest  trees.  It  took  the 
work  of  about  an  hour  to  stop  its  holes  and  brace  its  sides, 
against  the  rapidly  coming  storm.  The  men  worked  ^Yith  a 
will.  Buflalo  robes  were  stretched  over  the  top  and  down  the 
windward  side.  The  provisions,  feed  and  fodder  were  carried 
into  the  place.  The  wagons  were  drawn  up  as  close  to  its 
sides  as  might  be,  so  as  to  break,  in  a  measure,  tlie  stroke  of 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  121 

tlie  wind.  The  latter  would  come  from  the  west,  but  Sassa- 
fras knew  that  it  might  chojj  to  the  uorth  or  south.  The 
mules  were  hobbled,  fed  and  turned  to  leeward.  The  horses 
were  led  in  and  fastened  in  close  array  to  the  sides  of 
the  hut.  Then  the  fire  was  built  and  kindled,  and  while  the 
dusk  of  the  coming  night  caught  a  deeper,  darker  shade  from 
the  advancing  storm,  the  party  sat  down  to  their  evening  meal. 
It  is  a  wise  provision  of  nature  that  while  a  man  is  in  bodily 
health  he  will  eat.  Sickness  may  abate  the  appetite,  but  im- 
minent peril,  or  the  near  approach  of  certain  death,  does  not. 
The  forlorn  wretch  whose  feet  are  almost  upon  the  steps  of  the 
scaffold,  eats  heartily  in  the  very  presence  of  the  hangman. 
The  sailor  in  a  sinking  ship,  with  boats  stove  by  the  raging 
sea,  and  the  crags  of  an  iron-bound  coast  grinning  in  his  face, 
takes  his  last  meal  unsparingly.  The  men  under  the  shelter 
of  the  poles  and  bark,  beneath  trees  already  groaning  and 
sighing,  were  not  at  all  likely  to  neglect  their  fare.  They  ate 
and  cracked  their  jokes.  Some  told  of  storms  they  had  for- 
merly experienced  in  that  region  until  the  war  of  elements  had 
actually  begun. 

Meantime  the  black  and  ponderous  sky,  to  the  seeming 
almost  as  solid  as  the  earth  itself,  came  towering  on.  Cloudy 
mountains,  like  Alps  on  Alps,  and  Teneriffe  on  lofty  Andes 
piled,  bearing  the  red  pennons  of  the  forked  lightning,  and  the 
chariots  of  the  thunder !  Before  the  storm  really  began  there 
was  darkness  for  a  few  minutes.  Then  lightning  split  the 
black  arch  that  hung  like  a  pall  over  the  troubled  earth  ;  the 
thunder  crashed  and  rolled  away  to  the  eastward  ;  torrents  of 
rain  came  beating  down ;  and  the  fierce  winds  rushed  in  to 
complete  the  uproar.  Half  the  night  the  tempest  raged. 
Towards  the  last,  by  the  flashes  of  the  spent  lightning,  beasts 
of  chase,  elk  or  deer,  might  be  seen  mingled  with  the  mules 
of  the  travellers. 


122  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"  Upon  the  banks  where  panthers  steal  along, 
And  the  dread  Indian  chants  a  dismal  song, 
Where  human  fiends  on  midnight  errands  walk, 
And  bathe  in  brains  the  murderous  tomahawk, 
There  shall  the  flocks  on  thymy  pastures  stray. 
And  shepherds  dance  at  Summer's  opening  day." 

ON  the  raorniDg  after  the  storm  the  sky  was  clear  to  the 
westward,  but  iu  the  East  masses  of  black-blue  cloud 
hung  about,  as  if  threateuiug  to  return  and  renew  the  wild 
tumult  of  the  night.  Most  of  those  iu  the  camp  slept  soundly 
towards  the  morning  hours,  lulled  as  it  seemed  by  the  low 
rumble  of  the  then  distant  thunder.  The  French  hunters 
were  more  wakeful.  They  arose  at  dawn,  renewed  the  fire, 
lit  their  pipes,  and  made  a  pot  of  coffee,  the  fragrant  and 
favorite  beverage  of  the  frontier.  Having  partaken  of  this, 
the  Frenchmen  woke  the  negroes,  then  took  their  rifles  and 
went  upon  a  little  scout.  Not  far  from  the  camp  they  came 
upon  the  tracks  of  elk ;  whereupon  Franyois,  the  elder  of  the 
two,  told  his  companion  to  beat  through  the  underbrush  of 
the  swale  along  the  banks  of  the  creek  running  from  a  spring 
beneath  the  ridge,  while  he  would  mount  the  ridge  towards 
the  prairie,  and  lie  in  wait  for  a  shot  at  any  animal  which 
might  pass.  The  elk,  however,  had  gone  on  through  the 
wooded  valley  to  the  higher  hills  which  lay  to  the  southeast 
of  it,  and  Francois  waited  in  vain.  After  some  time  he  passed 
down  the  declivity  up  which  the  wagons  had  been  forced  the 
previous  evening,  and,  looking  out  upon  the  prairie,  suddenly 
drew  back  to  the  edge  of  the  cover  and  crouched  down  among 
the  stunted  bushes.  He  was  motionless  and  silent,  but  his 
quick  and  searching  glances  swept  the  swells  of  the  prairie 
far  and  near,  and  he  looked  keenly  along  the  broken  outline 
and  ragged  scrub  of  the  ridge.  He  laid  down  with  his  ear 
near  the  ground,  and  listened  intently,  but  heard  no  sound 
save  the  rustle  of  the  mules  l)ehind  him.  A  low,  peculiar 
call,  like  the  plaintive  cry  of  some  wild  animal,  brought  Jules 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  123 

to  his  side  in  a  few  minutes.  Franyois,  with  a  gesture,  indi- 
cated the  necessity  for  silence.  He  then  pointed  to  the  prairie, 
and  exchanged  a  few  words  with  Jules.  Thereupon  the  latter 
moved  with  the  crouching  action  and  silent,  stealthy  step  of  a 
panther,  along  the  ridge  towards  the  south,  while  Franyois 
advanced  with  like  craft  and  caution  in  the  opposite  direction. 
About-an  hour  elapsed  before  the  two  men  met  again  at  the  point 
from  which  they  started.  Their  search  had  been  ineffectual,  and 
Franyois,  stooping  low,  went  swiftly  out  upon  the  prairie  for  a 
short  distance.  He  soon  returned,  and  then  they  went  down 
to  the  camp.  When  they  reached  it  the  other  men  had  fed 
the  horses  and  mules,  and  got  their  own  breakfasts. 

Sassafras  was  seated  on  a  bale  of  fodder,  smoking  and  pon- 
dering. 

"Any  game  about?"  said  he 

"  We  came  upon  the  tracks  of  elk,"  said  Fran9ois,  "  but 
found  that  they  had  gone  off  to  the  higher  hills.  I  think 
they  left  as  soon  as  the  storm  abated." 

"And  no  wonder,  mon  Dieu !"  said  Jules;  "for  there  have 
been  other  visitors  about  since  we  went  into  camp.  Sassafras, 
there  are  moccasin  prints  about  the  ridge,  and  a  band  of  In- 
dians dismounted  upon  the  prairie  last  night." 

At  this  relation  Sassafras  exhibited  no  alarm,  and  scarcely 
any  surprise.  The  Frenchmen,  too,  went  at  their  breakfast  in 
a  very  matter-of-fact  sort  of  way.  The  former  watched  the 
smoke  as  it  curled  upwards  from  his  pipe,  as  if  waiting  for 
the  guides  to  satisfy  their  appetites  before  questioning  them 
further.  He,  however,  ordered  the  negroes  to  load  the  wagons, 
and  then  said  to  the  Frenchmen : 

"  Boys,  we  are  no  more  alone.  We  must  have  been  watched 
yesterday  for  many  a  mile,  as  nobody  could  follow  our  trail 
after  the  storm  fairly  loomed  up.  Either  the  Indians  were 
close  upon  us  before  the  storm  broke,  or  knew  where  to  find 
us  when  it  was  over." 

Fran5ois  and  Jules  looked  up  as  though  about  to  speak,  but 
one  appeared  to  wait  for  the  other,  and  both  remained  silent. 
Sassafras  then  added : 

"  This  is  what  I  propose :  we  w'ill  be  in  no  hurry  to  move 
until  we  have  tried  to  find  out  something  about  these  new- 
comers.    What  say  you,  Fran9ois  ?" 


124  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

"  I  say  the  plau  is  good,  so  far  as  it  goes,"  replied  Fran  wis ; 
"  but,  Sassafras,  we  shall  hardly  learu  mueh  about  this  party 
\vhile  we  stay  here.  This  much  I  can  tell  already — the  baud 
is  small.  There  are  six  Indians  and  six  horses,  no  more.  They 
did  not  come  to  the  ridge  until  after  the  rain  had  fallen ;  the 
tracks  showed  it.  When  they  dismounted  and  climbed  the 
ridge,  they  walked  wide,  and  some  of  them  slipped."     • 

"  Which  shows  that  they  are  Indians  of  the  plains,  and 
almost  always  on  horseback,"  said  Sassafras,  quietly.  "  But 
if  there  were  but  six  here,  they  know  where  to  find  six  more — 
eh,  Jules  ?     But  which  way  do  you  think  they  have  gone  ?" 

"  It  is  not  easy  to  say,"  replied  Francois.  "  They  set  off  to 
the  north  of  west,  and  the  tracks  show  that  they  galloped  fast. 
But  they  may  have  doubled  back,  for  all  we  know,  and  be 
behind  the  ridge  to  the  south  and  east  of  us." 

"  I  hardly  think  they  have  done  so,"  said  Sassafras.  "  The 
Indians  of  the  plains  like  to  keep  on  the  backs  of  their  horses, 
and  being  but  a  small  party,  they  would  not  be  likely  to  leave 
the  prairie  for  the  hills  and  the  timber.  Besides,  they  may 
be  a  part  of  Cinnamon's  baud  upon  the  scout  to  meet  us." 

"  Is  it  not  too  soon  for  their  arrival  ?"  said  Jules.  "  The 
South  Fork  of  the  Solomon  is  a  long  way  off"." 

"  I  know  ib,"  returned  Sassafras,  "  and  did  not  expect  to 
see  or  hear  anything  of  him  and  his  men  so  soon.  Still,  the 
Indians  travel  fast  and  far,  and  Cinnamon  is  not  the  man  to 
loiter  by  the  way  when  a  friend  calls  for  him." 

"Ay,  but  Indians  must  eat  though,  and  so  must  their 
horses,"  remarked  Franyois.  "  It  may  be  that  the  chief  got 
your  message  a  long  way  east  of  his  usual  hunting-grounds. 
News  travels  fast  over  the  plains,  when  it  is  of  a  party  bear- 
ing presents  and  going  to  have  a  talk." 

"  But  as  Cinnamon  is  a  chief,  if  he  heard  of  coming  pres- 
ents and  a  talk,  would  he  not  stay  to  get  his  share?"  said  Tom 
Scarlet. 

"  The  question  is  well  put,"  replied  Sassafras ;  "  but  I  do 
not  think  he  would,  after  my  message  was  carried  to  him. 
Cinnamon  is  a  young  and  active  chief,  more  renowned  for 
hunts,  forages  and  marches  than  for  council  with  the  whites. 
The  talks  are  mostly  left  to  the  elder  men  ;  and  as  for  the 
presents,  the  share  of  himself  and  the  braves  of  his  band 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  125 

would  be  kept  for  them.  I  have  good  reason  to  know  that 
he  will  be  here  soon,  if  he  is  not  already  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  I  think  these  men  may  belong  to  his  band.  But  they 
may  be  none  of  his  and  we  must  move  warily.  Whatever 
the  Indians  may  be,  who  were  here  last  night,  and  who  are 
certainly  not  far  off  this  morning,  they  know  our  strength. 
They  are  aware  that  no  six  or  sixteen,  for  that  matter,  can 
make  a  raid  on  us  with  impunity.  We  are  eight,  three  of  us 
tried  frontier  men.  AYe  have  the  best  of  arms  and  the  In- 
dians know  it.  And  though  they  may  not  belong  to  Cinna- 
mon's band  themselves,  they  will  be  apt  to  know  that  the 
red  riders  of  the  Horse-head  from  the  Forks  of  the  Solomon 
have  come  far  east  on  the  plains.  This  little  party  will  not 
attack." 

"  They  may  know  where  to  find  a  bigger  one,"  said  Jules. 

"  What  does  '  red  riders  of  the  Horse-head'  mean  ?"  said 
Tom  Scarlet  to  Franyois. 

"  It  means  the  Cheyennes.  Their  totem  is  a  horse-head ; 
and  unless  I'm  mistaken,  Sassafras  carries  it  of  right,  as  one 
of  the  tribe." 

Sassafras  looked  at  his  pistols  and  examined  the  lock  of  his 
rifle,  a  heavy  weapon  of  soft  metal,  with  the  Kentucky  gain- 
ing twist.  The  guides  finished  their  meal,  and  by  this  time 
the  wagons  were  loaded. 

"  Hitch  up,  boys,"  said  the  leader  to  the  negroes.  "  Fran- 
cois, Jules,  I  have  settled  in  my  own  head  upon  our  plan  of 
action.  If  you  have  any  objection  to  make  when  you  hear  it, 
speak  your  minds.  Jules  shall  take  charge  of  the  train, 
snake  the  wagons  along  the  ridge  to  the  nearest  place  to  the  west 
of  this,  and  then  cut  across  the  bend  of  the  prairie  towards  the 
southwest  bluff",  which  is  visible  from  the  top  of  the  ridge 
above  us.  You  and  I,  Fraugois  and  Tom,  will  make  our  way 
on  horseback  iuside  the  ridges  and  hills  and  round  the  bight 
of  the  bend  out  of  sight.  Before  Jules  gets  to  the  bluff"  we 
shall  know  a  little  more  about  our  neighbors  than  we  do  now, 
unless  they  have  gone  right  off"  towards  the  west,  which  is  not 
at  all  likelv.  They  are  within  eyeshot  from  a  tall  tree,  no 
doubt." 

"The  plan  is  good,"  said  the  guides. 

"  Ay,  I  think  it'll  do !     Jules,  if  you  reach  within  half  a 


126  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

mile  of  the  bluff  without  seeiug  or  hearing  of  us,  halt  there," 
said  Sassafras. 

"  The  train  will  be  so  weak  that  the  Indians  may  make  a 
rush  and  carry  off  the  race-horses,"  said  Tom  Scarlet. 

"  To  some,  if  they  knew  the  quality  of  Virginia  and  the 
Young  Chief,  the  temptation  would  hardly  be  resistible,"  re- 
plied Sassafras.  "  But  these  Indians  number  but  six.  They'll 
know  there  are  rifles  in  the  train,  of  long  range  and  true, 
especially  when  fired  from  the  rest  of  a  wagon  rail  by  a  man 
stretched  upon  his  breast.  Besides  they'll  know  that  the  three 
horsemen  out  of  sight  are  scouting  them,  and  ready  to  come 
in  unawares.  Come !  we  three  shall  have  far  to  go,  and  there 
will  be  no  riding  fast  upon  this  route.  Boys,  take  care  of  the 
racers." 

With  this  he  mounted  his  horse,  and  followed  by  Tom  Scar- 
let and  Francois,  rode  away  into  the  timber  and  underbrush 
of  the  bottom,  and  crossed  the  creek  which  meandered  along  it. 

The  ridge  of  hills  which  ran  out  to  the  bluff  spoken  of  as 
its  westernmost  elevation,  swept  round  in  the  section  of  a  cir- 
cle, so  that  the  teams  upon  the  prairie  would  travel  by  a 
straight  and  comparatively  short  line,  while  Sassafras  and  his 
party  would  go  round  the  bend.  This  he  deemed  necessary  in 
order  to  be  able  to  survey  the  plain  unseen  from  time  to  time, 
and  to  reach  the  bluff  unknown  to  the  Indian  baud,  which,  be- 
yond all  doubt,  was  prowling  in  the  neighborhood.  This  route 
w^as  impracticable  to  the  wagons,  and  therefore  the  separation 
was  made.  Threading  his  way  among  such  obstacles  as  ra- 
vines, fallen  timber,  and  the  thickest  growths  of  vines  and 
brambles,  Sassafras  led  Frauyois  and  Tom  Scarlet  along  the 
rough  and  devious  route.  At  intervals,  when  they  were  upon 
the  high  ground,  they  could  see  the  wagons  with  their  teams 
and  drivers,  following  the  lead  of  Jules,  upon  the  prairie.  No 
Indians  appeared,  nor  could  Sassafras  detect  any  signs  by 
which  it  might  be  inferred  that  they  had  approached  the  ridge 
at  any  other  place  than  the  one  above  the  last  night's  camp. 
He  knew  their  stealthy  character  so  well,  however,  that  he  and 
Frau9ois  remitted  no  vigilance,  and  watched  warily  as  they 
made  progress  over  the  rough  and  woody  ground.  The  sun 
was  n-ow  lofty  and  triumphant  in  the  heavens,  like  a  monarch 
who  has  subdued  and  driven  away  the  legions  of  a  formidable 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  127 

rebellion.  The  effects  of  the  storm  were  seen,  however,  in  the 
branches  strewn  upon  the  soil,  and  here  and  there  in  the  trunk 
and  top  of  a  large  tree,  which,  loaded  with  wet,  and  stricken 
by  the  furious  assault  of  the  wind,  had  come  down  with  a  sough 
and  a  mighty  crash.  It  was  high  noon,  and  upon  the  banks  of 
a  swollen  creek  in  a  grassy  bottom  the  party  halted  to  bait 
and  water  their  horses.  When  they  remounted  they  ascended 
the  ridge  and  saw  the  teams  slowly  moving  across  the  prairie 
at  the  distance  of  four  or  five  miles.  Nothing  was  discovered 
of  the  Indians.  Two  or  three  miles  further  was  travelled  in 
solitude  and  silence,  for  neither  beast,  bird  nor  man  appeared. 
Then  Sassafras  dismounted  and  again  ascended  the  ridge. 
Upon  its  crest  he  laid  down  his  rifle,  and  climbed  the  tallest 
tree  he  could  find.  From  amongst  its  topmost  boughs  the 
frontier  man,  with  an  eye  trained  for  ranging  over  a  great 
space,  like  that  of  a  sailor  who  sees  the  far-off  land  while  it  is 
still  invisible  to  his  passengers,  and  nothing  but  sea  and  sky 
appear  to  their  untaught  vision,  surveyed  the  country  for 
many  miles  around.  For  a  time  he  made  no  discovery.  At 
leugth,  however,  his  roving  gaze  was  fixed  upon  the  southwest, 
beyond  the  western  bluff',  and  upon  the  prairie.  Swinging 
himself  from  bough  to  branch,  and  from  branch  to  lower  arm, 
he  slid  down  the  trunk,  rejoined  his  companions,  mounted  his 
horse,  and  led  the  way. 

"Any  signs  of  the  Indians?"  said  Francois. 

"Yes,  but  they  are  at  a  smart  distance  and  in  ambush," 
replied  Sassafras.  "  They  have  made  their  horses  lie  down  in 
a  hollow,  and  are  watching  the  train  as  it  moves  towards 
them." 

"Indians  of  the  West?"  said  Francois. 

"Ay,  no  doubt  of  it,  for  they  keep  on  the  prairie,  and  use 
what  little  cover  it  affords  with  much  craft  and  skill.  They 
forget,  however,  that  where  trees  grow  a  tree  can  be  clomb," 
replied  Sassafras ;  and  then  he  hummed  : 

"  0.  the  oak  and  the  ash  and  the  bonny  hiek'ry  tree, 
They  do  all  flourish  best  in  the  "West  country." 

"  Do  you  think  them  part  of  Cinnamon's  band  ?"  said  Fran- 
9ois,  anxiously. 

"  I  think  it  probable  they  are,"  returned  Sassafras ;  "  but  I 


128  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N. 

shall  be  more  able  to  judge  when  we  reach  the  head  of  the 
bluff.  They  lie  iu  a  buuch  to  the  sou 'west  of  it,  and  within  a 
couple  of  miles.  From  a  tree-top  on  it  I  shall  be  able  to  look 
down  upon  their  cache  and  make  them  out." 

"  It  would  seem  from  their  lying  in  wait,  near  the  route  of 
the  train,  that  they  mean  to  attack,  and  are  none  of  Cinna- 
mon's men,"  said  Tom  Scarlet. 

"  Not  so,"  replied  Sassafras.  "  If  they  intended  to  raid  upon 
the  wagons  they  would  lie  behind  the  knoll  and  pretty  close 
to  it,  so  as  to  come  out  with  a  sudden  rush  and  a  yell,  and 
close  before  the  rifles  could  be  brought  to  bear.  As  it  is,  they 
would  have  to  ride  about  a  couple  of  miles  in  plain  sight 
before  they  could  strike  a  blow." 

"  That's  it,"  said  Fran9ois  ;  "  they  are  only  scouting." 

"  Only  scouting,"  repeated  Sassafras.  "  They  are  now  ob- 
serving the  train,  believing  that  it  belongs  to  friends  of  their 
chief.  They  do  this  in  Indian  fashion,  wary-like,  and  ready 
to  go  off  without  parley,  and  without  letting  us  know  what  they 
are  and  what  they  came  for,  if  they  conclude  that  we  are  not 
the  men.  Besides,  they  go  upon  the  certainty,  that  while  they 
are  watching  the  wagons  they  may  be  watched  themselves  by 
another  band.  Then,  again,  they  know  that  three  horsemen 
who  were  with  the  wagons  yesterday  are  with  them  no  longer. 
They  want  to  account  for  that  before  they  come  near  and 
show  themselves.  I  reckon  they  expect  us  to  be  doing  just 
about  what  we  are  doing,  and  think  that  we  shall  appear 
upon  the  route  before  another  camp  is  made." 

"That  is  it,"  said  Fran9ois.  "They  lie  hidden,  as  they 
think,  out  on  the  prairie,  because  they  are  uncertain  where  we 
shall  debouch." 

No  more  was  said,  but  the  pace  was  increased  so  far  as  the 
nature  of  the  bushy,  broken  ground  would  allow.  Still  the 
progress  was  slow,  so  that  the  sun  was  sinking  towards  the 
west,  like  a  great  orb  of  red  gold  in  the  deep  azure  sky,  when 
they  reached  the  west  knoll  and  dismounted.  Standing  upon 
his  horse's  croup.  Sassafras  gra.«ped  a  branch  of  a  tree  above 
his  head,  and  swung  himself  upon  it.  Climbing  to  a  lofty  fork, 
his  lookout  commanded  the  prairie  for  a  vast  distance,  all  lit 
up  and  mellowed  by  the  beams  of  the  sinking  sun.  The 
"wagons  were  halted  half  a  mile  north  and  east  of  the  bluff 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  129 

on  which  he  was.  The  Indians  yet  lay  close  in  the  hollow 
way,  and  made  no  move.  It  seemed  that  they  still  thought 
themselves  unobserved,  and  were  yet  uncertain  whether  to 
advance  or  retreat.  The  frontier  man  looked  long  and  fixedly, 
but  at  length  descended  to  the  ground  and  rejoined  his  anxious 
companions. 

"  Well,"  said  Tom  Scarlet,  "  what  do  you  make  out  ?" 

"  Some  of  Cinnamon's  young  men,"  said  Sassafras,  confi- 
dently. "  You  two  wait  here  while  I  ride  out  to  where  they 
are,  and  have  a  talk." 

"  May  it  not  be  dangerous  ?"  said  Tom  Scarlet.  "  I  see  not 
how  you  can  be  certain  of  their  character  and  tribe  from  a 
mere  glance  at  a  group  of  men  and  horses  lying  dovrn  two 
miles  oflf." 

Sassafras  and  the  Frenchman  laughed. 

"  Well,  now,"  said  the  former,  "  it  seemed  as  certain  to  me 
that  these  Indians  were  part  of  Cinnamon's  band  as  it  would 
if  I  had  seen  the  chief,  armed  and  mounted,  at  the  head  of 
them.  But  then  I  w^as  the  '  man  up  a  tree.'  However,  you 
remain  here.  Ten  minutes  will  settle  the  business."  With  this 
he  mounted  and  rode  down  the  western  slope  of  the  bluff. 

"I  cannot  understand  it,"  said  Tom  Scarlet  to  the  guide. 
The  latter  had  seated  himself  snugly  in  his  saddle,  had  filled 
his  pipe  with  much  deliberation,  struck  fire  from  knife  and 
flint,  caught  the  spark  with  well-dried  punk,  and  was  now 
pufiiug  away  with  much  content. 

"  I  say,  Francois,  I  cannot  understand  it,"  repeated  Mr. 
Scarlet,  with  some  perplexity. 

"  Very  likely  not ;  I  couldn't  myself  once,  but  that  was 
long  ago.     I  can  now,"  replied  Franyois. 

"  And  you  say  that,  partially  seen,  the  character  of  Indians 
could  be  made  out  two  miles  off?" 

"  Yes,  four  miles  off,  by  Sassafras,  when  he  is  well  acquent 
with  the  tribe  they  belong  to,"  said  Frangois,  positively. 

Sassafi-as  had  now  reached  the  prairie.  Tom  Scarlet  and 
Fran9ois  saw  him  canter  off  towards  the  Indians.  As  soon  as 
they  perceived  his  approach  the  braves  rose  to  their  feet,  got 
up  their  horses  and  mounted  them.  Then  one  rode  forward 
to  meet  the  white  man,  each  carrying  his  rifle  across  his 
horse's   withers.     They   met.     Some   words    and   signs   were 


130  THE  WHITE  EORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

exchanged.  The  Indian  pointed  with  his  gun  towards  wooded 
heights  lying  away  in  the  southeast  and  dim  in  the  distance. 
The  savage  then  returned  to  his  silent  band,  and  the  six  rode 
rapidly  away.  Skirting  the  blufi'  and  making  a  signal  to 
Scarlet  and  Fran9ois,  Sassafras  rode  towards  Jules  and  the 
wagons.  Half  an  hour  later  the  camp  was  formed  and  supper 
eaten.  Afterwards,  by  the  camp-fire,  Sassafras  informed  his 
friends  that  the  Cheyenne  chief  was  near  at  hand  with  a  band 
of  hunters  and  braves. 

This  intelligence  was  received  by  the  Frenchmen  without 
emotion,  but  the  negroes  appeared  to  be  excited  and  disturbed. 
A  sort  of  natural  antipathy  existed  between  the  red  and  black 
races,  such  as  is  found  between  the  domesticated  dog  and  the 
wolf.  The  Indians,  hunters  and  warriors  almost  from  the 
cradle,  disdaining  steady  work,  barbarian  in  all  their  tastes, 
and  without  knowledge  of  any  of  the  arts  of  civilized  life, 
looked  down  upon  the  blacks  as  a  people  made  by  the  Creator 
expressly  for  labor  and  bondage.  The  blacks,  while  secretly 
holding  the  Indians  in  contempt,  as  ignorant  savages,  good 
for  nothing  but  to  be  scalped,  yet  feared  and  hated  them,  as 
their  ancestors  on  the  banks  of  the  Niger  feared  and  hated 
the  lion  of  the  great  woods  and  the  crocodile  of  the  reedy  mud- 
banks.  But  the  certain  intelligence  that  the  band  of  Indians 
from  the  western  side  of  the  plains  and  the  spurs  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains  had  arrived,  wrought  most  efiect  upon  the  young 
Englishman.  In  all  probability,  he  had  never  seen  an  Indian 
before  that  day.  A  fellow  had,  indeed,  been  exhibited  at  a 
country  fair,  in  company  with  a  giant  and  a  dwarf,  as  an  In- 
dian. He  ate  raw  beef  and  performed  strange  antics;  but 
some  thought  that  though  he  might  be  savage  enough  for  any- 
thing, he  never  came  Irom  the  tribes  of  North  America.  This 
was  afterwards  confirmed  by  the  worthy  landlord  of  the  Seven 
Bells.  He  declared  that,  going  to  his  back  door  in  answer  to 
a  summons  late  at  night,  he  there  found  the  proprietor  of  the 
caravan  and  the  Indian ;  when  the  latter  swore  at  the  show- 
man in  round  English,  with  a  rich  brogue,  and  drank  the 
greater  part  of  three  pots  of  beer  with  exceeding  relish. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON,  131 


CHAPTEK  XV. 

"  Loud  rush  the  torrent  floods 
The  Western  wilds  among, 
And  free,  in  green  Cohimbia's  woods, 
The  hunter's  bow  is  strung." 

TNSTEAD  of  proceeding  to  join  his  Indian  friends  and 
-L  allies  in  the  morning,  as  Tom  Scarlet  and  perhaps  the 
Frenchmen  expected  he  would  do,  Sassafras  remained  in  camp 
all  day,  chiefly  devoting  himself  to  the  exercise,  grooming  and 
feeding  of  the  gray  mare  Virginia,  and  the  bay  horse,  the 
Young  Chief.  The  negroes  slept  for  the  most  part.  The 
Frenchmen  smoked  much,  and  cleaned  their  guns  and  pistols. 
The  Englishman  walked  uneasily  about,  with  a  dejected  air. 
The  region  in  which  he  now  was  seemed  even  more  wild  and 
threatening  than  the  melancholy  expanse  of  the  great  prairies 
itself  The  hills  were  rocky,  broken  and  uncouth,  and  to  the 
southeast  were  dominated  by  higher  hills,  where  huge  preci- 
pices might  be  perceived,  frowning  over  chasms  which  broke 
the  forest  with  which  the  hills  were  mainly  clothed.  At  that 
day  those  parts  were  seldom  visited  by  white  men.  The  passes 
in  the  mountains  were  known  to  but  few,  and  these  were 
mostly  adventurers  of  the  stamp  of  Sassafras  and  his  French 
companions.  Time  has  changed  all  that.  This  region  has 
become  common  enough,  like  other  tracts  which  were  savage 
and  remote  two  score  years  ago.  Commerce,  the  pursuit  of 
mining,  and  the  desire  of  exploration  penetrate  everywhere, 
and  when  foiled  return  again  and  again. 

"The  Hyrcanian  deserts,  and  the  vasty  wilds 
Of  wide  Arabia,  are  but  as  thoroughfares  now !" 

In  the  evening  Sassafras  left  his  camp  in  the  charge  of 
Jules,  and  set  out  with  Tom  Scarlet  and  Francois  upon  a  pro- 
jected expedition.  Perhaps  he  had  thought  it  best  to  appear 
in  no  hurry  ;  perhaps  he  knew  that  he  would  not  be  expected 
at  the  Indian  camp  until  night  had  set  in.  However  this 
may  be,  the  sun  had  set  when  he  mounted  his  horse  and  rode 


132  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

briskly  away  to  the  southeast.  The  moon  had  just  risen  over 
the  eastern  highlands  when  they  turned  towards  the  wooded 
slope,  and  rode  cautiously  up  it.  The  night  was  still  and 
calm,  the  air  and  earth  fresh  from  the  recent  rain.  As  they 
reached  the  highest  point  of  the  ridge,  and  the  glimmer  of 
fires,  in  a  sheltered,  grassy  bottom  below,  was  visible  through 
the  brush,  the  figure  of  an  Indian  rose  from  the  grass.  He 
appeared  so  silently  and  suddenly  that  Tom  Scarlet  uttered  a 
startled  exclamation.  The  man  was  naked  to  the  waist,  for 
the  blanket  belted  around  him  had  fallen  from  his  shoulders, 
and  he  held  a  rifle  in  his  hand.  He  spoke  a  few  words  in  an 
Indian  tongue,  with  a  sign  to  Sassafras  to  follow  him  a  little 
apart.  He  was  tall,  straight  and  well-built,  but  not  stout. 
The  shade  of  his  complexion  could  not  be  determined  by  that 
uncertain  light,  but  it  was  dark  even  for  a  native  of  the  west- 
ern wilds  ;  in  fact,  its  hue  was  a  rich  brown,  befitting  one  who 
lived,  like  the  eagle,  "close  to  the  sun,  in  lonely  lands."  His 
manner  was  grave  and  collected,  and  he  was,  indeed.  Cinna- 
mon, a  young  but  famous  chief,  renowned  from  the  Rocky 
Mountains  to  the  settlements  of  the  whites  for  his  success  in 
hunting  and  his  exploits  in  war. 

After  a  short  conversation  between  him  and  Sassafras,  they 
returned  to  the  others,  and  the  chief  bade  Tom  Scarlet  wel- 
come in  a  few  words  of  broken  English.  He  seemed  to  speak 
it  with  difficulty  and  unwillingly,  for  he  addressed  the  French- 
man in  the  Indian  tongue.  Cinnamon  then  led  the  way 
towards  the  camp  of  his  people,  who  were  soon  seen  sitting 
and  reclining  round  the  fires  in  the  valley  below.  The  wild 
appearance  of  the  Indians,  seen  by  the  red  glare  of  blazing 
logs  and  brush,  with  their  picketed  horses  and  rude  tents,  mere 
blankets  and  skins  on  sticks,  was  strange  and  striking  to  the 
Englishman.  Sassafras  and  Francois  had  no  doubt  seen  the 
like  of  it  many  times  before,  for  they  followed  the  chief  down 
into  the  valley  without  pause  or  remark.  Cinnamon  passed 
on  to  the  fire  in  front  of  his  own  scanty  tent,  around  which 
was  a  group  of  his  young  men.  The  Indians  appeared  to 
know  Sassafras  well,  for  they  came  up  one  after  the  other  and 
greeted  him  in  a  few  words,  their  gaze  being  meanwhile  fixed 
upon  the  ornament  of  a  horse's  head,  cunningly  carved  in  red 
stone,  which  he  now  wore  upon  his  breast.     The  costume  of 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  133 

the  Cheyeunes  was  sparse  to  a  degree,  consisting  mainly  of 
moccasins  and  leggings,  with  here  and  there  a  scrap  of  blanket. 
But  if  their  wardrobe  was  scanty,  there  was  no  lack  of  rude 
ornament  among  Cinnamon's  men ;  and  the  glare  of  the  fire 
showed  a  profusion  of  paint  upon  their  faces  and  bodies. 
Their  heads  were  uncovered  save  by  their  shaggy  black  hair, 
with  which  were  intermixed  the  plumes  of  eagles,  hawks  and 
perhaps  other  birds  of  prey.  One  figure  there  was  whose  out- 
fit presented  a  striking  contrast  to  those  of  the  chief  and  his 
men.  It  was  that  of  a  youth  of  perhaps  seventeen  years  old. 
His  form  was  handsome,  and  his  features  may  have  been  good, 
but  they  were  obscured  by  much  paint.  He  wore  scarlet  leg- 
gings, with  a  sort  of  tunic  of  the  same  color,  belted  at  the 
waist.  A  white  blanket,  trimmed  with  scarlet,  lay  across  his 
shoulder  in  the  manner  of  a  Highland  plaid.  Braid  and 
trinkets  were  plentifully  disposed  over  his  apparel ;  his  hair 
was  plaited,  twisted  round  the  top  of  his  head,  like  a  coronet, 
and  bedecked  with  eagles'  plumes.  Upon  this  boy  the  gaze 
of  Sassafras  was  soon  fixed.  The  lad  returned  it  with  a 
haughty  air,  and  then  seemed  to  be  wholly  interested  with 
the  appearance  of  Tom  Scarlet.  He  stood  aloof.  At  the 
earliest  opportunity.  Sassafras  addressed  the  chief. 

"  Cinnamon,"  said  he,  in  a  low  voice,  "  you  have  a  stranger 
in  the  band — one  of  another  tribe.  Who  and  what  is  he  that 
my  friend  has  brought  here?" 

"  Indian  from  the  southwest.  Young  Kiowa,  son  of  a  great 
chief  I  have  sometimes  hunted  with,"  replied  the  Cheyenne. 

Then  seeing  that  Sassafras  was  hardly  content,  he  added : 

"  Brought  here  from  down  the  great  river  by  my  brother. 
I  will  answer  for  the  boy." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Sassafras.  "  And  so  your  brother  has 
come  up  from  his  plantation,  has  he  ?" 

"  He  has,"  replied  the  Indian. 

Cinnamon's  brother  was,  in  fact,  an  elder  half-brother,  being 
a  son  of  his  mother  and  a  wealthy  French  trader.  He  was 
settled  on  a  plantation  near  the  mouth  of  the  Arkansas  river, 
but  sometimes  made  trips  to  its  upper  waters,  where,  as  Sassa- 
fras knew,  he  might  often  meet  roving  bands  of  the  great  pred- 
atory tribes  of  the  southwest  branches  of  the  Arkansas,  the 
Kiowas  and  the  Comanches.     This  brother  of  the  chief,  being 


134  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

a  man  of  substance,  liberality  and  enterprise,  as  well  as  of 
part  Indian  blood,  had  reputation  and  influence  with  many 
bands  and  tribes.  A  conversation,  weighty  in  matter,  but  com- 
paratively brief,  eusued  between  Sassafras  and  Cinnamon,  at 
the  close  of  which  the  former  rejoined  Tom  Bcarlet  and 
Frau9ois.  The  wary  Western  man  threw  a  keen  glance  around 
before  he  recited  to  Tom  Scarlet  in  English  what  had  passed 
between  himself  and  the  chief.  A  discussion  followed,  in 
which  Sassafras  became  earnest,  and  enforced  his  view  of  the 
case  with  a  louder  voice  and  much  force.  When  he  finished 
and  looked  up,  he  was  surprised  to  find  the  painted  Kiowa 
near  at  hand.  He  seemed,  however,  to  be  lost  in  revery, 
thinking  of  things  and  scenes  far  away,  for  his  piercing  eye 
appeared  to  look  beyond  the  fires  and  tents  and  figures  of  the 
camp,  and  to  penetrate  the  darkness  which  hung  heavy  on  the 
hills  and  woods  around.  And  yet  Sassafras  was  not  altogether 
satisfied.  As  he  threw  himself  upon  a  pile  of  brush,  pipe  in 
mouth,  and  weighty  thought  in  brain,  he  muttered : 

"  Cinnamon  will  answer  for  the  boy.  Cinnamon  is  good,  but 
the  boy  is  none  of  his  tribe,  and  has  been  with  him  but  a  few 
days.     Safe  bind,  safe  find  !     Fran§ois  shall  watch  him  !" 

Almost  worn  out  by  the  fatigue  of  the  last  sleepless  night, 
and  by  the  anxiety  of  the  day  just  past,  the  Englishman,  in 
spite  of  the  novelty  of  his  situation,  soon  slumbered  heavily  by 
the  side  of  the  Western  man.  When  he  was  fast  asleep  the 
latter  drew  a  blanket  carefully  over  him,  and  sat  some  time  in 
thought.  He  then  aroused  Franyois,  and  led  him  to  the  verge 
of  the  valley,  where  they  sat  down  on  an  old  log.  The  camp 
was  nearly  still,  the  moonlight  mingling  its  white  rays  with 
the  fitful,  dying  glare  of  the  fading  fires.  An  Indian,  how- 
ever, might  now  and  then  be  seen  stalking  out  of  the  shade 
of  a  pile  of  brush  or  a  clump  of  bushes,  and  getting  a  brand 
to  light  his  pipe.  The  horses  had  eaten  their  fill  of  the  fresh 
grass  of  the  valley,  and  lay  here  and  there  all  around  the 
camp.  At  times  the  hoot  of  the  owl  was  heard  from  the  timber 
of  the  hill  above,  and  the  long  howl  of  the  wolf  resounded 
from  the  ravines.  The  Frenchman  filled  his  pipe  with  much 
deliberation,  and  having  lighted  it,  signified  by  an  inclination 
of  his  head  that  he  was  ready  to  hear  what  Sassafras  might 
have  to  communicate.  The  latter,  looking  around  cautiously, 
spoke  in  a  low  voice. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  135 

«  Fran9ois,  there  is  a  boy  in  there,"  pointing  to  the  tent  of 
the  chief,  "  for  whose  presence  here  I  can't  account.  You,  no 
doubt,  saw  him  when  we  first  arrived,  if  not  since." 

"  I  did,  and  I  cannot  make  him  out  any  better  than  your- 
self," replied  the  Frenchman.  "  I  asked  one  of  the  Cheyennes 
if  he  was  of  their  tribe.  He  said  no,  but  partly  of  their  blood, 
being  a  son  of  Cinnamon's  half-brother,  Pierre  Langlois. 
Pierre  is  now  at  the  trading  post,  and  having  brought  up  his 
son  from  below,  has  suffered  him  to  join  his  uncle  in  camp 
here." 

"  That  cock  cannot  fight  in  this  main,"  said  Sassafras, 
quickly.  "  The  story  don't  agree  at  all  with  what  Cinnamon 
told  me  two  hours  ago.  He  says  that  lad  is  the  son  of  a  chief 
of  the  Kiowas,  intrusted  to  Pierre  Langlois  by  his  father,  when 
he  was  up  in  the  mountains  near  the  head-waters  of  the 
Arkansas,  over  towards  the  Spanish  line." 

"  It  may  be  so  and  the  Indian  not  know  it,"  said  Franyois. 

"  Devil  a  bit !"  said  Sassafras.  "  If  the  boy  was  a  Kiowa 
every  ludian  in  this  camp  would  know  it.  You've  seen  Kiowas 
— did  you  ever  see  one  painted  like  this  boy?" 

« I  have  seen  their  warriors — this  lad  is  none." 

"  Ay,  but  he's  of  age  to  be  a  warrior,"  returned  Sassafras. 
« Besides,  though  he  looks  a  little  like  a  dandy  Indian,  he 
don't  walk  like  an  Indian  ;  and  his  blanket  and  other  fixings 
ain't  a  month  okl,  instead  of  being  five  or  six." 

"  Sassafras,  we  have  always  said  that  you  were  the  keenest 
man  on  the  frontier,  and  you  are,"  said  Frangois,  "  but  I  think 
you  take  too  much  note  of  this  lad." 

"It  may  be  so,"  replied  Sassafras,  "but  I  tell  you  I  have 
got  no  use  for  that  boy  here  until  I  know  more  about  him." 

"  And  this  may  make  trouble,  as  he  is  with  Cinnamon  him- 
self," said  Francois.     "You  don't  doubt  the  chief?" 

"  Surely  not,  for  I  wear  this,  won  by  his  side  in  a  hard- 
fought  tussle  with  the  Sioux,"  said  Sassafras,  laying  his  hand 
on  the  ornament  which  hung  upon  his  breast.  "  But  you  see 
this  stripling  is  really  as  little  knpwn  to  Cinnamon  as  he  is  to 
you  and  me.  The  chief  may  be  imposed  upon.  Pierre  Lang- 
lois brings  the  boy  here  from  a  quarter  whence  I  expect  an 
enemy,  and  he  is  a  neighbor  of  Staples," 

"  Yes,  but  hates  him  worse  than  he  hates  a  snake — I  know 
it  well,"  said  Francois. 


136  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  For  the  matter  of  that,  everybody  hates  him  that  ever  had 
anything  to  do  with  him,"  said  Sassafras ;  "  but  he  manages 
to  get  many  to  go  in  with  him  for  all  that.  But  no  matter ! 
I  spoke  to  this  bedizened  boy  in  as  good  Indian  as  I  could 
muster  for  the  occasion,  and  no  answer  did  I  get." 

''  Well,  he  may  not  understand  Cheyenne,"  said  Fran9ois. 

"  Then  I  want  to  know  how  he  understands  Cinnamon,  who 
can  speak  but  precious  little  else,  though  he  can  understand 
my  English,"  remarked  Sassafras,  with  a  little  impatience. 

"  There's  some  difference  between  Cinnamon's  Cheyenne  and 
yours,"  said  Franyois,  with  a  smile.  "  Of  all  the  people  that 
have  to  do  with  the  Indians,  you  and  the  English  speak  their 
tongues  the  worst.  Kow,  we  French  and  the  Spanish  of  Mexico 
soon  learn  to  speak  them  well.     That  is,  well  for  white  men." 

"  You  may  speak  them  as  w^ell  as  you  like,  but  d — n  me  if  I 
think  you  can  make  this  boy  understand  Indian  of  any  sort. 
What  do  you  say  to  that,  now  ?"  said  Sassafras,  with  some 
heat. 

"  I  don't  know.  To-morrow  I'll  try  him  with  French,  and 
with  as  good  Kiowa  and  Comanche  as  I  can  command.  If 
those  fail,  I'll  at  him  in  Spanish  ;  for  I'll  bet  a  horn  of  powder 
he's  Spanish  if  he's  no  Indian.  His  eyes  and  his  hair  show 
it,  as  well  as  the  small  size  of  his  hands  and  feet." 

"  Do  so,  Fran9ois ;  and  watch  him  narrowly,  without  letting 
him  know  that  you  are  doing  so.  You  can  stay  here  on  some 
pretence,  when  I  have  gone  back  to  our  camp.  AVe  shall  not 
move  to  the  post  for  some  days.  I  must  give  Virginia  and 
the  Young  Chief  work — sharp  w^ork." 

"  Good  !  the  boy  will  be  more  off  his  guard,  if  he  is  now  on 
it,  when  you  have  left  the  band  again,"  said  Frangois.  "  If 
I  can  find  out  nothing  from  him,  we  must  wait  until  we  see 
Pierre.  Pierre  is  a  talkative  as  well  as  a  prosperous  man,  and 
by  getting  him  to  drink  three  or  four  times  I  can  learn  almost 
all  he  knows."  After  a  pause  of  a  minute  or  so  he  added : 
"  But  as  you  know  the  chief  to  be  true,  why  trouble  yourself 
about  this  youngster?     What  can  the  boy  do  ?" 

"  Why,  no  harm  that  I  can  see,  just  at  present,"  replied 
Sassafras  ;  "  but  the  minute  I  laid  eyes  upon  this  gay  bird  it 
struck  me  that  he  was  not  what  he  seemed.  When  I  find  a 
blind  at  the  beginning  of  a  trail,  I  am  never  satisfied  until  I 
know  what  is  at  the  other  end." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N.  137 

"  There's  wisdom  in  that,  and  ^Ye  will  try  to  find  out,"  re- 
turned Frau9ois. 

"  One  thing  made  me  more  suspicious  than  almost  all  that 
I  have  mentioned,"  said  Sassafras,  earnestly.  "  I  noticed  that 
when  we  came  into  camp  to-night  with  Cinnamon,  this  boy 
looked  straight  at  Tom  Scarlet  and  gave  you  and  me  but  just 
a  glance.  Now,  I  say  that's  not  natural,  if  the  boy  is  Indian, 
or  even  half  or  quarter  blood,  through  Pierre  Langlois. 
Would  a  young  Kiowa,  from  the  plains  and  mountains  of  the 
Southwest,  take  more  note  of  a  green  Englishman  than  of 
men  like  you  and  me,  Fran9ois  ?" 

"  Hardly  !  though  the  Englishman  is  a  fine-looking  young 
man,  a  very  fine-looking  young  man,"  replied  Francois. 

"  I  grant  it — much  better  looking  than  you  or  I,  so  far  as 
mere  form  and  features  go,"  said  Sassafras ;  "  but  don't  you 
see,  he  has  none  of  the  air  and  carriage  of  the  West — of  men 
who  have  hunted  many  a  year,  and  fought  in  many  a  scrim- 
mage— and  I  tell  you  that's  what  would  have  fixed  the  eye  of 
this  youngster,  if  he  had  been  the  son  of  a  chief  of  the  war- 
like Kiowas." 

The  Frenchman  silently  assented  to  this  by  an  inclination 
of  his  head,  and  Sassafras  went  on : 

"  As  for  our  mate  from  the  island  over  the  sea,  he  needs 
vigilant  as  well  as  staunch  friends  here.  Good  man,  brave 
and  true,  he  is  no  doubt  in  his  own  country ;  but  here,  Fran- 
9ois,  he  is  little  more  than  a  baby — no  experience,  you  see — 
and  a  self-willed  and  obstinate  baby  at  that.  Why,  he  sticks 
out  for  honesty  and  what  he  calls  fair  play,  and  what  not,  in 
our  dealings  with  the  men  we  must  circumvent.  As  if  hon- 
esty was  of  any  use  against  Staples,  three  or  four  hundred 
miles  west  of  the  Mississippi  river !" 

The  Frenchman  nodded  acquiescence  once  more,  and  Sassa- 
fras went  on : 

"  If  there  was  no  one  but  you  and  Jules  and  me  concerned, 
it  would  be  different,  and  I  should  be  less  alert,  knowing  we 
could  hold  our  own,  whatever  might  turn  up  trumps.  I  never 
told  you  before  the  exact  state  of  affairs.  It  is  this  :  The  man 
who  stole  the  best  horse  in  England,  or  one  about  as  good  as 
any,  and  a  lot  of  money,  from  Tom  Scarlet,  will  be  at  the  post 
with  Staples.  My  business  is  to  make  him  fork  over,  one  way 
or  another.     Do  you  see?" 


138  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  I  see  well  enough — go  on,"  said  Fran9ois. 

"  The  fellow  ran  away  with  a  lot  of  money  belonging  to 
other  people,  too ;  but  that  don't  concern  us,"  said  Sassafras. 
He  then  continued,  speaking  very  earnestly:  "I  met  this 
young  fellow,  Tom,  at  Baltimore,  as  soon  as  he  landed,  and 
struck  hands  with  hira.  I  have  brought  him  all  this  way 
west,  and  I'm  bound  to  stick  to  him,  come  what  may.  '  He's 
here  in  double  trust,'  as  Macbeth  says  of  Duncan  ;  for  he  has 
confided  in  me,  and  I  like  the  man  himself,  Franyois ;  while 
his  talks  of  the  girl  he  left  behind  him  have  made  me  like  her, 
too.     I  swear  I'm  almost  in  love  with  her  myself" 

"  And  good  reason,"  said  the  Frenchman.  "  I,  too,  have 
heard  him  talk  of  her,  and,  my  faith !  it  reminded  me  of  the 
little  girl  I  was  to  marry  tw^enty  years  ago,  when  we  used  to 
dance  under  the  trees  on  the  bank  of  the  big  river,  half 
through  the  summer  nights.  But  Louise  died  in  her  spring 
time,  you  see." 

"  Well,  my  true  and  trusty  friend,  remember  to  look  close 
after  that  boy.  Find  out  something  about  him  somehow,  and 
then  ride  straight  over  to  our  own  camp.  Now,  we'll  lie  down 
and  sleep,  as  well  here  as  anywhere  about,  for  the  night  is 
warm." 

Midnight  was  some  time  past,  and  the  dark,  dead  hour  had 
come  which  precedes  the  first  faint  tinge  of  dawn.  The  camp 
was  as  still  as  though  no  living  thing  was  in  it.  No  breeze 
sighed  among  the  branches  of  the  lofty  trees,  and  the  moon 
had  gone  down  over  the  vast  silent  prairie  to  the  west,  leaving 
the  valley  to  the  little  light  afforded  by  wasted  brands  of  the 
waning  fires  among  their  own  ashes.  It  was  the  time  of 
night — 

**  When  the  graves,  all  gaping  wide, 

Every  one  lets  forth  his  sprite, 
In  the  churchway  paths  to  glide ; 

And  the  fairies,  that  do  run. 
By  the  triple  Hecate's  team, 

From  the  presence  of  the  sun, 
Follow  darkness  like  a  dream." 

The  deep,  solemn  sleep,  so  like  pale  death  itself,  into  which 
Tom  Scarlet  had  first  fallen,  was  now  changed  into  uneasy 
slumbers  and  swift-changing  dreams.  His  home  across  the 
Atlantic,  the  scenes  of  his  boyhood,  the  favorite  haunts  of  her 
he  loved,  and  many  incidents  of  his  life,  long  forgotten,  flew 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  139 

through  the  chambers  of  the  brain,  faster  than  the  sunbeam 
which  chases  night's  black  shadow  round  the  revolving  world. 
More  uneasy  the  sleeper  grew,  for  the  sombre  shadow  of  his 
brother's  death,  jand  the  white  face,  upturned  to  the  pale  blue 
wintry  sky,  were  again  before  him.  Again  he  felt  the  stun- 
ning horrors  of  the  gale  which  smote  the  brig,  and  almost 
overwhelmed  her  in  the  waves  of  the  Atlantic.  The  fierce 
hissing  scream  of  the  wind ;  the  thunder-clap  of  the  topsail, 
when  its  chain-sheets  parted  and  flew  loose  aloft ;  the  calls  of 
the  captain  and  mate ;  the  hoarse  cries  of  the  sailors ;  and 
the  tumult  of  the  raging  waters,  rang  in  his  ears  again.  Then 
the  noises  subsided  into  the  merry  echoes  of  the  village  feast 
at  eventide,  and  the  rustle  of  summer  winds  among  the  haw- 
thorn and  the  gorse.  And  then  came  music,  to  a  soft  air,  and 
low,  as  of  the  hum  of  honey-bees  about  the  fresh  June  flowers. 
After  a  space  this  was  shaped  into  words,  and  the  man,  in  the 
mysterious  debatable  land  which  lies  between  dead  sleep  and 
wakefulness,  heard  the  following,  like  a  faint  but  distinct  and 
clear  echo : 

High  the  hawks  fly  in  the  dappled  sky, 

And  over  the  blackthorn  stream 
The  partridge  knows,  while  swift  she  goes, 

They  float  on  the  morning  beam. 
A  maiden  bright,  at  their  foremost  flight, 

Says,  "  Well !  ah,  well-a-day  !" 
The  Scarlet  and  Gold,  so  lithe  and  bold. 

Is  over  the  seas  away  ! 

Early  and  late,  near  the  garden  gate. 

The  linnets  sing  love's  song  ; 
The  sparrows  hatch  in  the  old  barn  thatch, 

And  the  ploughmen  plod  along; 
And  at  morn  and  night  the  maid  so  bright 

Says,  "  Well !  ah,  well-a-day  \" 
The  Scarlet  and  Gold,  so  lithe  and  bold. 

Is  over  the  seas  away  ! 

There's  a  yeoman  tried  at  Hawk' ell  side 

In  all  the  tales  they  tell, 
And  the  hunting  mare  is  grazing  there, 

In  the  paddock  by  the  well. 
The  throstle's  note,  from  his  golden  throat, 

And  the  blackbirds  seem  to  say, 
The  Scarlet  and  Gold,  so  lithe  and  bold, 

Is  over  the  seas  away  ! 

The  hawks  fly,  too,  and  the  wolves  pursue 

Where  the  wild  buck  leaps  for  life — 
0 !  the  beak  and  claw  of  the  border  law 

Are  the  tomahawk  and  knife. 


140  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

Will  the  maid  once  gay  e'er  see  the  day 

When  the  sun  shall  clear  the  wrack? 
Will  the  Scarlet  and  Gold,  so  lithe  and  bold, 

O'er  the  racing  seas  go  back? 

From  first  to  last,  while  this  strange  chaunt  was  going  on, 
the  young  man  lay  like  one  in  a  trance.  Conscious  he  was, 
but  partly  unable  aiKl  partly  unwilling  to  stir  and  break  the 
spell  of  the  voice.  When  the  song  was  finished  he  lay  for  the 
space  of  a  minute.  Then  he  rose  and  looked  about  him  with 
a  bewildered  air.  No  one  was  in  sight.  He  felt  for  Sassafras  ; 
but  the  Western  man  had  long  left  that  couch,  and  was  now 
fast  asleep  with  Francois  upon  the  outer  verge  of  the  camp. 

"  This  is  like  witchery,"  said  Tom.  "  I  must  have  been  awake 
— somebody  must  have  sung.  It  can't  be  Sassafras,  for  his 
voice  is  not  so  tuneful.  It  can't  have  been  an  Indian,  for  no 
Indian  could  master  the  words,  to  say  nothing  of  the  harmony. 
Can  it  have  been  Fran9ois  ?  I'll  tax  him  with  it  in  the 
morning." 

Morning  was  now  near.  The  sky  was  steel-gray  in  the 
eastern  board,  and  soon  one  after  another  of  the  horses  rose 
and  shook  his  lariat.  Tom  Scarlet  had  no  opportunity  of 
speaking  to  Francois,  for  when  the  time  came  for  the  white 
men  to  return  to  their  own  camp  the  Frenchman  was  not  to 
be  found.  An  Indian  briefly  stated  that  he  had  gone,  with 
two  of  the  young  men,  to  hunt  the  elk,  which  were  to  be  found 
in  the  neighboring  hills.  Sassafras  remarked  that  he  could 
not  wait,  and  bidding  farewell,  for  the  present,  to  Cinnamon 
and  his  braves,  he  and  Tom  Scarlet  put  boot  in  stirrup  and 
rode  away.     The  young  Kiowa  was  not  to  be  seen. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"  Good  people  all,  I  pray  give  ear, 
And  a  doleful  story  you  shall  hear; 
'Tis  of  as  stout  a  rogue  as  ever 
Bade  a  true  man  stand  and  deliver. 


ABOUT  two  weeks  had  elapsed  since  the  meeting  between 
Sassafras  and  Cinnamon,  and  both  had  moved  their  camps 
to  the  near  vicinity  of  the  trading-post.  The  interval  had 
been  mainly  spent  by  the  former  and  Tom  Scarlet  in  training 


THE  WRITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  141 

Virginia  and  the  Young  Cliief  for  the  races  they  expected. 
The  Indians  had  parsed  their  time  in  hunting  excursions,  and 
in  much  eating  and  sleeping.  Game  was  abundant.  The 
young  men  brought  in  elk  and  deer.  Franyois  and  Jules  shot 
many  turkeys.  The  former  found  no  opportunity  to  sound 
the  young  Kiowa,  for  when  he  returned  from  his  first  hunt 
the  youth  had  left  Cinnamon,  and  the  Frenchman  was  told 
that  he  had  returned  to  Pierre  Langlois  at  the  post.  Nor  was 
he  to  be  seen  at  that  place  when  Sassafras  reached  it ;  and 
Cinnamon  then  said  that  he  was  gone  on  a  hunt  with  some  of 
his  young  men.  The  Western  man  was  too  much  occupied 
with  his  horses  and  in  settling  the  preliminaries  of  a  race  or 
two  with  his  old  antagonist,  Captain  Staples,  to  make  further 
quest  just  then. 

The  trading-post  alluded  to  was  situated  among  the  hills, 
but  on  a  flat  prairie  some  two  miles  long  and  a  mile  and  a 
half  wide.  The  hills  were  bold  but  not  high,  and  bushy  val- 
leys ran  up  between  them  from  the  open  ground.  The  grass 
of  the  prairie  was  short,  more  like  that  of  a  meadow  in  the 
valley  of  the  Ohio  than  the  coarse  but  nutritious  buffalo  grass 
upon  wdiich  herds  of  bisons  fed  on  the  great  plains  further 
west.  Often  camped  upon,  trampled,  and  fed  off  close,  it  had 
lost  much  of  its  wild  character,  and  become  tame  pasture. 
This  change  had,  perhaps,  been  aided  by  the  mixture  of  other 
grasses,  from  seed  which  had  been  scattered  by  such  wayfarers 
as  Sassafras  and  Staples  at  their  periodical  visits.  The  main 
structure  was  a  square  log-building,  standing  on  the  north  side 
of  the  prairie.  It  was  of  considerable  extent,  part  being  used 
as  a  depot  for  the  goods  of  the  company  who  were  the  nomi- 
nal owners  of  the  land,  and  part  for  the  residence  of  their 
factor  and  his  men.  On  each  side  of  it,  at  the  distance  of  a 
few  rods,  there  were  shanties  of  slight  poles,  roofed  with  bark ; 
while  in  some  of  the  valleys  between  the  hills,  rude  log-houses 
had  been  built  at  some  time,  which  could  be  hastily  repaired. 
The  prairie  sloped  very  gradually  inward  to  a  slough  or 
pond,  in  which  there  was  nearly  always  tolerable  water.  It 
was  fringed  with  low  bushes  of  cottonwood  and  alder,  and  the 
surface  of  the  water  was  overgrown  with  lilies  then  in  flower. 
A  rude  sort  of  race-course,  called  a  mile,  but  probably  more, 
for  the  vast  ranges  of  the  Western  country  belittled  measured 


142  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

spaces  in  the  eyes  of  the  adventurers  who  had  laid  it  out, 
and  now  resorted  to  it,  ran  around  the  pond.  It  had  once 
been  ploughed  up  and  harrowed  by  the  men  of  the  post,  who, 
cultivating  a  few  acres  of  corn  and  potatoes,  had  the  imple- 
ments of  simple  husbandry ;  but  it  was  now  overgrown  with 
short  grass,  very  good  to  gallop  over.  At  the  foot  of  the  hills, 
in  various  places,  small  bands  of  Indians  were  encamped.  In 
some  of  the  shanties  near  the  main  building  there  were  a  few 
W'hite  men,  with  blood-like  horses  and  negroes.  The  traders 
had  done  a  good  business  with  the  Indians,  considering  the 
rate  of  profit,  buying  buffalo  robes,  skins  and  furs  for  next  to 
nothing,  in  whiskey,  powder,  lead  and  blankets.  The  Chey- 
ennes  of  Cinnamon's  band  had  bartered  away  in  this  manner 
the  furs  and  skins  they  had  brought  on  the  backs  of  their 
horses.  For  two  or  three  days  there  was  high  revelry,  and 
some  danger  of  an  outbreak  and  resort  to  arms  between  them 
and  some  of  the  other  bands.  But  it  was  prevented  by  the 
vigilance  of  their  chief.  Cinnamon  had  pitched  his  camp  in 
the  bight  of  a  narrow  valley,  between  two  of  the  largest  hills 
on  the  south  side.  Further  on  it  opened  out  and  became  the 
bottom  lands  of  a  creek,  one  of  the  head-waters  of  the  Neosho, 
which  is  itself,  in  turn,  one  of  the  almost  innumerable  streams 
which  contribute  to  the  volume  of  the  Arkansas  without  ap- 
parently increasing  it.  Such  is  the  thirsty  nature  of  the  soil, 
and  so  great  the  evaporation  in  summer  time,  that  the  river  is 
nearly  as  large  five  hundred  miles  from  its  mouth  as  it  is 
within  sight  of  the  Mississippi,  into  which  it  falls.  In  the 
next  little  valley  on  the  south  side  lay  the  camp  of  Sassafras; 
but  this  was  a  mere  branch  of  the  prairie,  running  up  into  the 
wooded  hills,  but  not  piercing  them  through.  It  had  good 
grass  and  fine  water.  A  living  spring,  small  but  constant, 
gushed  out  at  the  foot  of  a  lofty  rock  near  the  head  of  it. 
Pierre  Langlois,  a  small  partner  in  the  trading  company, 
lodged  in  the  post.  The  young  Kiowa  may  have  been  there 
also,  but  if  so  he  kept  very  secluded,  and  made  no  visits  to 
Cinnamon's  camp. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day  after  the  arrival  of 
Sassafras  at  the  post,  and  he  sat  at  the  entrance  of  his  log-hut, 
expecting  a  visitor.  He  had  not  long  to  wait  after  he  had 
sent  the  Frenchman  and  Tom  Scarlet  away,  for  the  man  soon 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  143 

approached,  and  addressed  him  ^vith  a  familiar  air.  He  mio;ht 
be  nearly  sixty  years  old,  and  much  weather-beaten,  but  plainly 
very  tough  and  vigorous  for  his  years.  He  was  not  tall  and 
sparse,  as  most  white  men  in  that  region  were,  but  below  the 
middle  height,  with  a  broad,  deep  chest,  and  massive,  round 
shoulders.  His  dark  hair  was  shaggy,  and  a  little  sprinkled 
with  gray.  His  eye  was  red  and  lowering,  like  that  of  a  sulky 
bull,  and  upon  his  face  there  were  the  scars  of  several  wounds. 
Such,  in  appearance,  was  the  redoubtable  Captain  Staples,  a 
man  of  uncommon  shrewdness  and  cunning  ;  bold  and  unscru- 
pulous to  the  last  degree.  Subject  to  the  laws  of  Arkansas 
when  within  her  boundaries,  and  to  those  of  the  Federal  Gov- 
ernment when  to  the  westward,  he  had,  to  use  his  own  expres- 
sion, no  use  for  either  of  them. 

"  For  why  ?     The  good  old  rule 
SuflBced  him;  the  simple  plan 
That  they  should  take  who  had  the  power. 
And  they  shall  keep  who  can." 

Sassafras  preceded  the  captain  into  the  shanty,  and  without 
much  ado  they  sat  down  facing  each  other,  with  a  barrel  be- 
tween them,  which  served  the  purpose  of  a  table.  A  stone  jug, 
and  a  tin  cup,  were  soon  put  in  requisition,  and  they  each 
took  a  drink  of  whiskey.  Sassafras  lighted  his  pipe,  while  the 
captain  renewed  the  enormous  quid  of  negro-head  tobacco, 
which  he  had  removed  when  he  drank.  With  some  people 
Captain  Staples  enjoyed  a  reputation  which  was  very  rare  in 
the  West  and  Southwest  in  those  days.  It  was  thought  that 
he  drank  no  liquor.  This  was  an  error ;  he  drank  none  in 
company,  save  when  the  latter  was  very  select,  but  a  great 
deal  in  private.  Why  he  had  adopted  such  a  rule  nobody 
knew.  It  could  not  be  because  he  was  afraid  of  being  over- 
reached in  his  dealings,  if  he  drank  in  the  rude  society  to 
which  he  was  accustomed,  for  liquor  had  no  effect  upon  his 
muscles  and  nerves,  and  abated  none  of  his  singular  resolution 
and  craft.  A  town  pump  might  have  been  made  drunk  as 
soon  as  he.  He  was  now,  however,  aware  that  by  pretending 
he  never  drank  he  should  merely  excite  the  disgust  of  Sassafras, 
which  might  have  interfered  with  the  object  he  had  in  view. 
Therefore,  the  worthy  captain  tossed  off  about  a  third  of  a  pint 
of  whiskey,  and  praised  the  quality  of  the  licjuor.     The  two 


144  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

meu  looked  each  other  full  in  the  eye  for  a  few  moments.  The 
captain  then  placed  his  hands  squarely  on  his  brawny  thighs, 
and  said : 

"  Sassafras,  we  have  been  acquainted  a  long  time ;  I  believe 
we  know  each  other  pretty  well." 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  we  do,"  returned  Sassafras.  "  It 
ain't  beeu  your  fault,   if  I  don't  know  you." 

"  No,  it  has  not !  And  yet  I  believe  you  don't  know  rae 
through  and  through,  Sassafras,"  said  the  captain,  with  much 
complaisance.  "  The  fact  is,"  he  added,  "  there  have  been  at 
times  words  between  us,  and  perhaps  hard  feelings  on  your 
part.  Now,  in  spite  of  all  that,  I  have  always  had  the  highest 
opinion  of  you,  and  am  the  best  friend  you've  got,  from  the 
Missouri  to  the  Red  river.  I  think  you  didn't  know  this," 
concluded  the  captain,  coolly. 

"  I'm  d — d  if  I  did,  until  you  told  me !"  said  Sassafras,  pour- 
ing out  more  liquor,  and  handing  it  to  his  best  friend  to  drink 
first. 

"  Well,  you  know  it  now.  Here's  to  you.  Sassafras,"  said 
the  captain,  drinking  with  a  relish.  "  Tlie  last  time  we  raced 
against  each  other,  I  beat  you stop !  hear  me  out !  Some- 
thing was  said  at  the  time ;  but  if  anything  was  done  wrong, 
it  was  without  my  knowledge  and  against  my  wish.  That's 
what  it  was.  You've  got  the  gray  mare  here  now,  and  she'll 
beat  me." 

"  I  don't  intend  to  let  her  be  dosed  before  she  starts,"  said 
Sassafras,  bluntly. 

The  old  man  was  unmoved.  "  That's  right,"  said  he.  "  It's 
always  well  to  look  out.  There's  generally  a  lot  of  loafing 
fellows  and  half-breeds  hanging  about  these  posts,  and  they'll 
do  anything  for  a  few  Mexican  dollars  and  a  jug  of  whiskey. 
I  see  you've  got  the  mare  in  good  condition,  and  she's  sure  to 
win." 

"  Well,  you  haven't  come  here  a-purpose  to  tell  me  that  ?" 
said  Sassafras.  "  Come,  now !  Why  did  you  ask  me  to  send 
my  men  away,  and  meet  you  here  alone  soon  after  sundown  ? 
It  isn't  your  way  to  take  much  trouble  for  nothing,  captain.'* 

"It  is  not.  You're  quite  right.  Sassafras.  I  meant,  by 
coming,  to  do  you  some  good.     That  ain't  nothing." 

"  How  much  good,  in  regard  to  what  good  you  mean  to  do 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  145 

yourself?"  said  Sassafras,  knocking  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe 
preparatory  to  filling  it  again.  He  probably  thought  that  this 
question  would  lead  to  an  explanation  from  the  captain,  and 
he  was  not  wrong. 

The  fine  old  gentleman  gave  his  quid  a  twist,  and  said  : 

"  Sassafras,  I've  got  a  betting  man  up  here  with  me,  a  gen- 
tleman— an  English  gentleman — a  man  with  plenty  of  know- 
ledge and  plenty  of  money.  Now,  this  gentleman  is  inclined 
to  lay  some  of  his  money  against  your  mare.  He'll  do  so,  if 
I  let  him  alone ;  and  1,  out  of  friendship  for  you,  feel  inclined 
to  let  you  win  some  of  his  sovereigns.  In  short,  we  could  go 
halves,  you  know." 

"  But  why  don't  you  let  Keeps  or  Kirby  lay  against  him  for 
you,  and  go  it  all  yourself?"  said  Sassafras. 

"  It  don't  suit  me  to  trust  Keeps  or  Kirby,"  said  the  captain. 
"  Besides,  they  are  greedy  and  unprincipled,  and  have  a  han- 
kering after  the  gentleman's  money  themselves.  You'd  hardly 
believe  it,  but  it's  been  all  I  could  do  to  prevent  Kirby  and 
Keeps,  especially  Keeps,  from  cheating  the  gentleman  at  poker. 
I  declare  to  you  that  these  fellows  had  a  cold  deck  all  ready, 
and  would  have  got  his  money  out  of  him  by  downright  cheatr 
ing.     That,  you  know,  I  could  not  stand." 

"  Of  course  not,"  returned  Sassafras  ;  "  the  money  is  not  for 
them.  They  might  as  well  undertake  to  rob  you  at  once. 
You  have  a  large  interest  in  this  English  gentleman." 

"  I  think  I  have,"  said  the  captain.  "  I  reckon  it  is  a  large 
interest,  present  and  contingent." 

"  And  in  order  to  make  pretty  sure  of  the  contingent  interest 
you  are  willing  to  share  the  present  interest  with  me.  Ain't 
that  it  ?" 

"  I  don't  think  it  is  altogether,"  said  the  captain.  "  Of  the 
bets  we  win  on  the  first  race  you  shall  have  half.  But  after 
that  com.es  the  heft  of  the  undertaking.  Listen  now,  for  I 
mean  real  business.  It  won't  do  to  cut  deep  at  first  for  fear 
of  exciting  the  gentleman's  suspicions.  He's  a  very  nice  man 
— fine  specimen  of  what  I've  heard  a  good  deal  about  in  my 
time,  the  English  gentleman.  But  I  can't  say  that  I  find  him 
quite  perfect  Sassafras,  he's  mistrustful  of  most  people,  and 
I  sometimes  think  that  he  suspects  even  me." 

"  O,  the  villain  I"  cried  Sassafras.  "  What's  his  name,  and 
10 


146  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

what  brouglit  him  here,  so  far  from  the  settlements  ?  Come, 
tell  us  a  little  about  the  stranger." 

"  His  name  is  Reginald  Grosvernor,"  replied  the  captain, 
with  readiness  and  composure.  "  That's  his  private  travelling 
name." 

"  He's  got  two  or  three,  has  he  ?  Staples,  I  think  you  had 
better  begin  to  suspect  Mm,  and  not  make  sure  of  your  buck 
while  he's  running  in  the  woods." 

"  That's  all  right !  you  leave  that  to  me,"  replied  the  cap- 
tain confidently,  "  This  gentleman  is  a  kind  of  lord,  what 
you  call  viscount,  but  has  dropped  the  title  for  a  time,  which 
is  right  and  proper,  being  on  a  tour  in  this  land  of  republican 
liberty  and  free  institutions,  where  titles " 

"  That'll  do !  I've  heard  enough  about  that.  You  ain't  on 
the  stump  addressing  the  people  down  the  river.  Come  to  this 
business.     What  brought  this  stranger  to  these  parts  ?" 

"Friendship,  and  a  desire  to  see  the  world,"  replied  the 
captain.  "  He  was  on  his  travels,  and  I  brought  him  here, 
where  he  can  see  the  works  of  natur'  on  a  stupendious  scale." 

Sassafras  was  about  to  interrupt  him,  when  the  captain 
changed  his  tone,  and  continued. 

"  He  is  owmer  of  a  plantation  in  the  West  Indies  and  mines 
on  the  Spanish  Main.  Having  been  to  visit  those  properties, 
he  came  back  by  way  of  the  Crooked  Island  Passage.  You 
don't  know  where  that  is,  but  I  do,  having  been  on  an  expedi- 
tion to  an  island  thereabouts,  on  which  the  buccaneers  buried 
a  mighty  treasure.  Lord  !  Sassafras,  if  we  could  only  find  it ! 
Well,  he  lands  in  Cuba,  and  comes  on  to  Orleans,  to  make  a 
tour  in  this  country  before  he  goes  home." 

"  Then  your  contingent  interest  is  in  the  sugar  plantation 
and  the " 

" Coffee— coffee  plantation,  Sassafras!  It's  coffee  grounds 
he  owns,  and  the  quality  of  the  berry  is  beautiful.  He  brought 
a  sample  and  we  tried  it  at  Orleans.  He  had  offers  for  the 
crop,  but  had  contracted  it  in  England." 

"  Well,  coffee,  then.  The  contingent  interest  is  in  the 
coffee  plantation  and  the  mines  on  the  Spanish  Main,  is  it?" 
said  Sassafras. 

"  No,"  replied  the  captain.  "  If  it  was  it  would  not  be  easy 
to  realize  it.     It  is  in  certain  money  he  has  deposited  in  the 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  147 

Bank  of  Louisiana.  I  tell  you  this  because  I  feel  certain  you'll 
want  to  know  what  induces  me  to  divide  with  you  in  the  mattter 
of  the  ready  money." 

"  All  right.  I  don't  care  a  picayune  what  the  contingency 
is  in.  That's  your  affair.  The  present  interest  in  the  ready 
money  is  to  be  equally  divided  between  us,  when  we  have 
bagged  it." 

"  No,  it  ain't ;  only  the  money  won  on  the  first  race  is  to  be 
divided  that  way.  When  we  come  to  the  main  stakes,  I  must 
have  two-thirds,"  said  the  captain. 

"  Then  I  can  tell  you,"  said  Sassafras,  decisively,  "  that  your 
interest,  present  and  prospective,  is  worth  just  about  as  much 
as  a  share  in  the  treasure  buried  by  the  buccaneers  on  the 
island  near  the  Grand  Cayman.  I  know  what  that's  worth. 
Man  alive !  I've  been  there,  too.  Do  you  think  that  I,  who 
must  be  the  actual  winner  of  the  money,  am  to  be  put  off  with 
less  than  half?" 

«  Not  so  loud !  Hear  reason,  and  don't  be  hasty.  If  you 
have  a  fault.  Sassafras,  it  is  going  off  at  half-cock.  Listen  to 
me — not  a  dollar  of  Ja — of  Mr.  Grosvernor's  money  can  be 
handled  except  through  me.  Not  a  dollar !  If  you  agree  to 
that  which  I  propose,  your  third,  with  the  half  of  the  first 
winnings,  will  amount  to  five  hundred  guineas — five  hundred 
guineas  !"  the  old  man  repeated  with  slow  and  round  emphasis. 

"  Your'n  will  amount  to  about  a  thousand,"  said  Sassafras, 
curtly. 

"  Ay ;  but  I  must  give  Kirby  and  Keeps  each  a  share,  recol- 
lect that.  Besides,  consider  the  risk  and  unpleasantness  of 
taking  the  gentleman  down  the  river  broke.  That  will  fall 
on  me,  while  you  will  go  north  to  St.  Jo.,  as  rich  as  a  Jew 
and  happy  as  a  king.  I  wish  I  was  in  your  place  and  you 
were  in  mine,  I  do,"  said  the  captain. 

"  Now,  look  here,"  said  Sassafras,  "  the  contingent  interest 
will  pay  well  for  taking  the  man  down  the  river.  If  it 
wouldn't,  you  w^ould  leave  him  to  get  down  as  he  might.  As 
to  Kirby  and  Keeps,  you  won't  give  'em  more  than  t\YO  hun- 
dred silver  dollars  a-piece,  when  you  strike  the  Arkansas,  and 
you'll  win  that  back  before  they  see  Little  Kock.  They  won't 
ring  in  any  cold  decks  on  you." 

"  I  don't  think  they  will,"  said  the  captain,  dryly.     "  But 


148  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

consideriog  that  I  have  in  a  manner  got  this  money  already 
in  hand,  and  that  the  five  hundred  guineas  will  be  the  same 
as  a  gift  to  you,  don't  you  think  that  you  are  in  conscience 
and  duty  bound  to  be  content  with  one-third  of  the  main 
stakes  ?" 

"  No,  I  don't.  I  must  have  half  or  as  good  as  half,"  replied 
Sassafras.  "  I'll  take  the  Englishman's  white  stud,  and  allow 
two  hundred  dollars  for  him  in  the  settlement  between  you 
and  me." 

"Two  hundred  !  he  thinks  him  worth  two  thousand,"  said 
the  captain.  "  But  never  mind  his  horse  for  the  present.  The 
thing  to  go  for  first  is  his  money.  Since  we  are  old  friends,  and 
I  may  never  have  such  another  opportunity  to  oblige  a  friend, 
I  will  agree  that  you  shall  have  four  hundred  dollars  out  of 
every  thousand  won  by  us  from  Grosvernor  after  the  first 
race — there !"  he  exclaimed,  as  if  amazed  at  his  own  gener- 
osity. "  Your  shares  together  wdll  reach  eight  hundred  guin- 
eas— eight  hundred  guineas !"  he  repeated,  slowly,  and  with 
round,  dwelling  emphasis.  "There  ain't  another  man  west 
of  the  Mississippi  that  I  would  do  it  for." 

"  No,  nor  east  of  it  either,"  said  Sassafras ;  "  but  suppose  I 
should  come  into  your  plan  on  these  terms,  how  is  it  to  be 
carried  out?" 

"  You  say  agreed,  I'll  find  the  way ;  and  after  the  little  busi- 
ness of  the  first  race,  we'll  go  for  blood — meaning  big  money, 
you  know\" 

"  Very  well !  I  say  agreed.  Now  let's  hear  how  this  man 
is  to  be  corralled  in,  so  that  he'll  lay  pretty  nigh  two  thou- 
sand guineas  on  a  second  race,  after  having  lost  on  the  first. 
He  isn't  altogether  a  fool  in  such  matters,  I  suppose !" 

"  A  fool !  oh,  no  !  he  knows  more  about  such  matters  than 
you  and  I  put  together.  The  Derby,  the  Leger,  Newmarket, 
and  what  not — he  knows  it  all.  Sassafras ;  knows  it  all !"  said 
the  old  gentleman,  with  a  chuckle.  "  I  said  he  was  suspicious ; 
he's  conceited  as  well,  and  reckons  his  own  judgment  better 
than  mine.  He  contradicts  my  opinions,  and  rejects  my  advice 
— thinks  very  little  of  it,  and  will  think  less,  when  the  first 
race  is  over.  Now,"  continued  the  captain,  leaning  forward 
over  the  barrel,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  endanger  the  whiskey 
jug,  which  Sassafras  thereupon  removed,  "  after  your  mare  has 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO X.  149 

beat  my  horse  in  the  match  now  made,  we  can  make  another. 
He'll  back  your  mare  at  strong  odds,  and  all  we  have  to  do  is 
to  stretch  out  our  hands  and  grasp  'em  !" 

"We  shall  never  grasp  them  in  that  way,"  said  Sassafras. 
"  The  plan  won't  work.  The  Indians  will  back  the  mare,  and 
I  daren't  pull  her.  There  was  nearly  a  bloody  fight  when  Vir- 
ginia was  beat  by  you  last  year." 

"  Kever  mind  their  small  amount  of  silver — we  can  make  it 
up  to  them  through  the  traders." 

"  Ay !  but  we  had  better  mind  their  lead.  The  end  of  it 
might  be  a  bullet  in  my  head  and  another  in  yours,  and  what 
would  be  the  use  of  the  Englishman's  gold  then?  The  thing 
would  be  too  plain.  Staples.  If  it  was  the  Englishman's  white 
stud  now  that  run  against  her,  he  might  win.  He's  a  very 
fine-looking  horse,  and  ought  to  beat  her." 

"  You  think  he  could  beat  her,  eh  ?"  said  the  captain,  with 
another  chuckle.  In  a  moment,  however,  his  merriment  ceased, 
and  he  added,  "  but  the  money  couldn't  be  laid  right  in  that 
case.  He  conceits  that  horse  mightily.  The  best  way  will  be 
to  run  my  horse  and  let  him  beat  Virginia.  The  Indians  can 
be  squared,  and  the  Cheyenne  band  can  overawe  the  others. 
The  chief  is  your  friend." 

"His  band  couldn't  overawe  a  marksman  in  a  bush,  and  I 
tell  you  that  plan  won't  work,"  said  Sassafras.  "Besides, 
there's  a  little  coolness  between  me  and  Cinnamon  just  now, 
caused  by  the  interference  of  Pierre  Langlois." 

"  I  see !  something  has  been  said,"  returned  the  captain.  "  I 
have  been  all  my  life  trying  to  get  people  to  mind  their  own 
business,  and  let  that  of  other  folks  alone,  but  I  can't  effect  it. 
But  now  to  come  back  to  our  business.  Suppose  you  were  to 
run  the  Young  Chief  against  my  horse  and  got  him  beat.  It's 
true  there  would  be  no  odds  laid  against  him,  and  we  should 
have  hard  work  to  raise  enough  to  stake  against  the  English- 
man's guineas,  at  even  bets." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that.  You've  got  some  money,  I've 
got  some.  We  reckon  upon  winning  some  on  the  first  race. 
And  then  the  traders  will  cash  a  bill  on  Orleans  for  me,  on 
good  security.  Young  Campau  comes  from  St.  Jo.,  and  knows 
my  plantation.  Still,  I  am  of  the  belief  that  it  can't  be 
worked  that  way,  for  the  Young  Chief  is  lame,  and  the  Eng- 


150  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

lishman  would  see  it  with  half  an  eye.  Better  leave  the 
shaping  of  the  main  matter  until  after  the  first  race  is  run. 
To  make  sure  work,  let  the  Euglishman  lay  plenty  of  money 
on  that.  Meantime,  I'll  make  his  acquaintance,  and  don't  you 
come  mixing  in  when  we  are  talking  together." 

After  Sassafras  concluded,  the  old  man  sat  in  thought.  He 
was  considering  whether  he  could  not  contrive  some  means  by 
which  Sassafras  and  his  mare  Virginia  might  be  beaten  in  the 
first  race.  That  would  have  been  a  coup  after  his  own  heart, 
but  he  could  not  see  how  he  could  win  the  money  of  the  Eng- 
lishman, after  having  deceived  Sassafras,  without  jeopardiziug 
his  chance  and  contingent  interest  in  the  Bank  of  England 
notes  and  sundry  securities  deposited  in  the  Bank  of  Louisiana. 
Jagger,  as  bold  and  unscrupulous,  in  his  way,  as  the  worthy 
old  captain  himself,  had  led  him  to  believe  that  the  amount 
was  about  ten  times  as  great  as  it  was  in  reality.  By  this 
means  he  had  acquired  a  strong  influence  on  Staples  to  insure 
his  personal  safety.  The  old  man  was  virtually  bound  over 
in  the  amount  deposited  in  the  bank,  to  bring  Jagger  safe 
back  to  New  Orleans.  Moreover,  the  captain  had  a  saving 
conviction  that  a  repetition  of  the  strategy  by  which  he  had 
been  enabled  to  defeat  Virginia  the  year  before,  in  the  Terri- 
tory of  the  Cherokee  Nation,  would  be  dangerous.  He  rose 
and  said : 

"  Well,  we  understand  each  other.  Don't  let  your  mare 
look  too  well,  for  Mr.  Grosveruor  will  scan  her  general  ap- 
pearance, and  if  she  shows  racing  like,  may  take  a  notion  to 
bet  on  her,  or  not  bet  at  all." 

"  Leave  it  to  me  to  manage  his  lordship  on  that  point,"  said 
Sassafras,  going  out  with  the  captain.  "  She  shall  go  in  the 
balance  of  her  work  in  such  a  way,  and  look  so  queer,  up  to 
within  ten  minutes  of  the  start,  that  he'll  reckon  she  can't  beat 
a  bull." 


TEE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  151 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

"Away,  and  mock  the  time  with  fairest  show; 
For  the  false  face  must  hide  what  the  false  heart  doth  know/' 

TT7HEN  Captain  Staples  and  Sassafras  parted  after  their 
^^  interview,  the  mental  exclamation  of  each  in  regard  to 
the  other  was,  "  Here's  a  pretty  rascal !"  It  was  the  more 
emphatic  on  the  part  of  Staples,  who  had  expected  Sassafras 
to  make  some  remonstrance  before  coming  into  the  fraudulent 
scheme  by  which  the  intended  victim  was  to  be  despoiled.  On 
the  other  hand.  Sassafras  knew  that  Staples  w^as  an  unscrupu- 
lous rogue  just  as  well  before  the  latter  unfolded  his  plan  as 
he  did  after  he  had  announced  it.  The  captain  walked  out 
into  the  night,  like  a  hardy  robber,  to  whom  darkness  is  a 
familiar  and  welcome  cloak,  or  a  wolf  who  prowls,  watchful 
and  confident,  in  his  haunts  of  chase  and  prey.  He  had  gone 
some  eight  or  ten  rods  into  the  prairie,  when  he  halted,  and 
seemed  to  deliberate  as  to  whether  he  should  not  return  and 
renew  the  conversation  with  his  partner'  in  the  conspiracy  he 
had  planned  and  was  bent  upon  carrying  out.  But  after  brooding 
for  a  minute  or  two,  he  said : 

"  No,  I'll  see  him  no  more  to-night.  He's  so  very  ready  to 
go  into  this  business  that  I  must  beware  of  him.  The  fellow 
bears  me  no  good  will.  He  has  threatened  me  once  or  twice. 
He  has  kept  up  a  sort  of  character  for  honesty,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing,  a  good  deal  too  expensive  for  my  means,  and  for 
that  I  always  hated  him.  But  see,  now,  how  he  jumps  at  the 
golden  bait  as  soon  as  the  stakes  are  big  enough.  He's  as 
great  a  rogue  as  I  am.  As  great  did  I  say  ? — much  greater ; 
for  this  money,  as  I  look  at  it,  is  mine  by  a  sort  of  right.  I 
steered  it  safe  through  New  Orleans,  where  Jagger  would  not 
have  had  sense  enough  to  keep  it  twenty-four  hours.  I  have 
protected  it  all  the  way  from  Kirby  and  Keeps  and  others, 
who  would  have  got  the  Englishman  roped  in  long  ago.  Be- 
sides, Sassafras  is  a  young  man,  without  a  family  to  provide 
for,  and  with  a  good  plantation  on  the  Missouri,  close  to  St. 


152  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

Jo.  Beyond  all  doubt,  the  fellow  shows  himself  to  be  a  much 
bigger  rogue  than  I  am.  But  I  hate  him  now  almost  or  quite 
as  much  as  I  did  before.  He's  fallen  out  with  the  Cheyenne 
and  Pierre  Langlois !  That's  what  makes  him  afraid  to  throw 
a  race  in  my  favor,  between  the  gray  mare  and  my  horse.  A 
rogue,  and  afraid,  too !  What  a  world  it's  got  to  be  since  I 
was  a  boy !  I  didn't  think  this  villain  would  have  been  afraid 
of  the  d — 1  himself.  He's  afraid  of  these  Indians,  however. 
Now,  if  I  could  get  them  on  my  side,  it  would  be  a  strong 
stroke  of  policy,  and  might  be  the  means,  by  and  by,  of  mak- 
ing Sassafras  disgorge  some  of  this  money  of  mine  that  he 
greedily  insists  upon  having  for  his  trifling  share  in  the  busi- 
ness. How  to  manage  it  is  the  thing.  Go  to  the  chief  in  the 
first  place  I  can't,  for  he's  a  sulky  sort  of  redskin,  and  does 
not  like  me.  Prejudiced  by  the  rascal  Sassafras,  no  doubt. 
Pierre  Langlois  doesn't  like  me  either ;  but  1  can  manage 
him.     Pierre's  the  man,  and  I'll  go  to  him  right  away." 

With  this  the  captain  strode  rapidly  on,  passed  the  bushes 
by  the  pond  at  the  east  end,  and  on  up  to  the  traders'  fort,  as 
it  was  called.  He  was  soon  admitted,  and  inquiring  for  Lang- 
lois, was  shown  into  an  apartment  partitioned  off  with  rough 
boards,  at  one  end  of  which  were  rows  of  sleeping-berths,  like 
those  on  the  beam  deck  of  a  ship.  Pierre  Langlois,  a  man  of 
forty  years,  with  the  figure  of  an  Indian  and  the  yellowish 
complexion  of  a  French  half-breed,  was  seated  at  a  table  with 
the  acquaintance  of  Sassafras,  young  Campau,  whose  father 
was  the  principal  man  in  the  company  of  traders,  and  two 
other  men  belonging  to  the  fort.  They  were  playing  cards. 
It  is  very  likely  that  Pierre  was  on  the  winning  side,  and  that 
he  had  been  taking  a  drink  or  two  of  the  fine  old  whiskey  in 
the  company's  store,  a  much  superior  article  to  that  sold  by 
its  factors  at  enormous  rates  to  the  Indians  and  hunters  who 
were  almost  the  sole  customers  at  the  fort,  for  his  reception  of 
Staples  was  not  ungracious,  and  in  his  talk  with  the  other 
players  he  was  loud  and  voluble.  There  was  another  person 
in  the  room  besides  those  of  the  card  party  when  Staples  en- 
tered, but  he  was  so  situated  as  to  be  unobserved.  It  was  the 
young  Kiowa.  He  lay  in  one  of  the  berths,  so  shaded  from 
the  light  and  so  still  that  the  captain  did  not  notice  his  pres- 
ence.    At  the  conclusion  of  the  game  then  pending,  Campau 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  153 

and  the  other  men  of  the  fort  retired  from  the  room.  Up  to 
this  time  the  conversation  between  Lauglois  and  Staples  had 
been  of  that  broken,  interjectory  order  which  may  be  held  be- 
tween the  fall  of  cards  and  during  the  dealing  of  them.  It 
was  not  to  be  thought  that  Staples  would  bring  on  his  motion, 
m  re  Sassafras,  while  Campau  was  present;  but  now  that  he 
and  the  other  man  were  gone,  he  improved  his  opportunity. 
He  began  by  assuring  his  neighbor,  Langlois,  of  his  sincere 
regard,  and  went  on  to  lament  that  so  good  a  man  should  be 
in  a  difficulty  with  a  desperate  character  such  as  Sassafras. 
He,  Staples,  had  had  several  differences  with  Sassafras  him- 
self, in  all  of  which  the  young  man  had  been  wholly  to  blame. 
Langlois  might  have  heard  of  this,  and  of  the  moderation  and 
mildness  by  means  of  which  Staples  had  avoided  the  shedding 
of  blood.  Sassafras  was  quarrelsome,  violent  and  vindictive — 
bull-headed  as  an  old,  solitary  buffalo.  He  had  a  very  bitter 
tongue ;  had  said  hard  things  of  him,  Staples,  and  when  a 
man  w^ould  do  that,  what  was  not  to  be  expected?  He  had 
said  many  hard  things  of  Langlois,  and  the  captain  was  not 
surprised  at  it.  He  then  very  glibly  repeated  some  of  these 
sayings,  for  the  information  and  satisfaction  of  the  object  of 
them.  There  were  such  as  Sassafras  had  never  uttered,  but 
the  captain  did  not  invent  them  for  the  occasion.  They  mainly 
consisted  of  what  Staples  himself  had  said  of  Langlois  on 
various  occasions. 

At  the  close  of  an  address  of  some  length,  the  captain 
paused  to  hear  what  his  neighbor  had  to  say  to  it.  At  first 
the  latter  had  been  eager  to  put  in,  and  had  tried  to  interrupt 
the  steady  flow  of  the  captain's  narrative  once  or  twice,  but 
on  the  last  of  these  occasions  something  had  happened  which 
made  him  change  his  mind.  He  was  in  front  of  the  berths, 
before  mentioned ;  Staples  sat  with  his  back  to  them.  All  at 
once,  Pierre's  manner  changed  from  that  of  the  eager,  excited 
Frenchman,  to  that  of  the  stolid  Indian,  determined  to  main- 
tain dogged  silence  at  any  cost.  Perhaps  the  captain  attri- 
buted this  result  to  his  own  eloquence.  He  had  just  then  re- 
cited some  of  the  bitterest  things,  which  he  alleged  were  said 
of  Langlois  by  Sassafras.  However  that  may  be,  when  the 
captain  came  to  his  pause,  Pierre  remained  silent  and  smoked 
away  with  the  obstinacy  and  grave  assiduity   of  the  most 


154  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK. 

ponderous  Dutchman.  Thereupon  the  captain  opened  the 
second  head  of  his  discourse,  to  the  following  effect :  It  would 
be  a  very  bad  job  if  Sassafras  made  trouble  between  Langlois 
and  his  brother,  the  chief.  He,  Staples,  was  afraid  he  would 
try  to  do  so,  and  Langlois  ought  to  take  measures  to  head 
him  off  in  time.  He  ought  to  see  the  chief  and  put  hiin  on 
his  guard  against  this  vindictive  and  dangerous  man.  The 
Indians  were  easily  misled,  and  this  Sassafras  was  of  all  men 
the  very  one  to  do  it.  He,  Staples,  would  advise  Langlois  to 
go  to  the  chief  in  the  morning,  and  enlighten  him  as  to  the 
true  character  of  his  pretended  friend  from  Missouri.  Sassa- 
fras was  no  friend  to  the  Indians  at  all,  but  a  greedy  adven- 
turer, ready  to  plunder  and  betray  friend  and  foe  alike.  Lang- 
lois might  be  sure  of  this,  for  he.  Staples,  had  had  proof  of 
the  greed  and  treachery  of  Sassafras  that  very  night ;  and 
of  all  things  in  the  world  betw^een  man  and  man,  Staples  most 
hated  treachery  and  greed,  especially  where  Indians  were  the 
victims  of  them.  Much  more  to  the  same  effect  the  old  man 
said ;  but  he  extracted  nothing  from  Langlois,  whose  replies 
were  very  brief  and  indistinct,  from  his  speaking  with  his 
pipe  in  his  mouth.  When  he  thought  he  had  well  primed 
his  man,  so  that  the  quarrel  between  Sassafras  and  the  chief 
was  sure  to  be  fomented,  and  the  breach  between  them  cer- 
tain to  be  widened,  the  captain  rose  and  left  the  room.  Lang- 
lois, perhaps,  might  have  followed,  but  the  door  w^as  no  sooner 
shut  upon  the  retreating  figure  of  the  former,  than  the  young 
Kiowa  sprang  lightly  to  the  floor,  and  putting  one  hand  on 
Pierre's  shoulder,  laid  the  other  on  his  mouth.  They  listened 
warily  for  a  few  moments,  then  they  sat  down  together,  and 
talked  in  whispers. 

Meantime,  Sassafras  left  his  camp,  and,  gun  in  hand  (he  was 
seldom  without  his  rifle  when  on  foot),  began  leisurely  to  climb 
the  wooded  hill,  between  his  camp  and  the  valley,  in  which 
the  tents  of  the  Cheyennes  were  pitched.  Although  it  was 
nearly  dark,  he  made  his  way  between  the  trees  and  bushes, 
and  over  the  fallen,  rotting  trunks,  as  if  guided  by  a  sort  of  in- 
stinct. "  A  nice  man  is  Staples,"  said  Sassafras,  "  especially 
for  an  old  man.  The  saying  is  '  No  fool  like  an  old  fool ;'  it 
ought  to  be  <  No  rogue  like  an  old  rogue.'  And  the  old  hum- 
bug thought  to  come  it  over  me  with  his  tough  yarn  about  a 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  155 

lord  in  disguise,  coffee  plantation  in  the  Leeward  Islands,  and 
mines  on  the  Spanish  Main.  The  mine  is  the  Englishman's 
guineas,  and  it's  all  fair  to  work  it.  These  men  are  villains  ! 
anything  is  fair  to  beat  them — that  is,  anything  in  reason." 
He  reached  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  saw  the  fires  of  the  Indians 
glowing  and  sparkling  in  the  valley  below.  Sometimes,  as 
they  blazed  up,  the  forms  of  the  warriors  might  be  perceived 
reclining  near  them.  "  I  wonder,  now,  whether  that  boy  has 
been  to  see  the  chief  again,"  said  Sassafras,  "  or  whether  he  is 
up  at  the  fort  with  Pierre  Langlois.  He  may  be  out  on  a  hunt 
with  some  of  the  men,  but  I  doubt  it.  He  wa'nt  rigged  in 
hunting  gear  to  my  eye.  But  never  mind !  I'll  see  Cinna- 
mon," With  this  he  strode  down  the  slope,  and  saluting  the 
Indians  who  were  upon  the  verge  of  the  camp,  moved  in  to- 
wards the  centre,  where  Cinnamon's  tent  was  pitched.  The 
chief  was  at  some  little  distance,  leaning  against  a  sapling 
which  grew  in  the  glade,  within  the  circle  of  light  cast  by  one 
of  the  fires.  He  was  very  grave,  and  so  still  that  in  that  ruddy 
light  he  looked  mare  like  a  grand,  severe  statue  of  a  warrior 
of  his  tribe,  than  a  living  man ;  and  yet  if  one  had  caught  a 
glimpse  of  his  deep,  dark  eye,  as  it  received  the  rays  of  the  fire, 
and  flashed  it  back  again,  he  might  have  seen  a  world  of  life 
and  power  in  the  brain  beyond.  As  Sassafras  approached,  the 
Indian  made  a  step  forward,  and  put  forth  his  open  hand, 
wdiile  his  countenance,  before  so  sombre,  glowed  with  pleasure. 
"  Sassafras  is  welcome  to  Cinnamon's  camp,"  said  he,  leading 
the  w^ay  to  his  own  tent.  They  sat  down  together,  smoked  the 
usual  pipe,  and  then  conversed  for  some  time,  in  short,  sen- 
tient phrases.  Sassafras  carried  on  the  conversation  for  the 
most  part,  the  chief  listening  attentively,  and  occasionally 
making  an  observation.  When  they  rose  the  Indian  walked 
with  the  white  man  to  the  foot  of  the  hill. 

Sassafras  had  crossed  it,  and  entered  the  little  valley  in 
which  his  own  camp  was  placed,  when  his  quick  eye,  far- 
reaching  almost  as  that  of  a  tiger  by  night,  caught  sight  of  a 
form  half  crouching  in  some  straggling  bushes.  The  ominous 
click  of  the  lock  of  the  Western  rifle,  as  Sassafras  cocked  it, 
sounded  in  the  still  night  upon  the  ear  of  him  who  was  half 
in  hiding,  and,  straightening  up,  he  stepped  clear  of  the  brush. 

"Halloo,  Joe!     What  brings  you  skulking  here?     I  had 


156  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

almost  put  a  bullet  through  you !"  said  Sassafras,  addressing 
a  half-breed  lad  belonging  to  the  fort. 

"  No  skulk— not  at  all,"  said  the  boy ;  "  only  wait  for  you." 

"  Well,  here  I  am,"  said  Sassafras,  as  they  entered  the  edge 
of  the  flickering  light  of  the  fire,  from  the  dark  void  beyond. 
"  Now  what  is  it,  Joe  ?" 

"  You  to  read  alone,"  said  the  boy,  putting  a  piece  of  folded 
paper  into  the  man's  hand. 

"  From  the  fort,  is  it  ?" 

The  boy  nodded,  and  was  about  to  turn  away. 

"Stop!"  exclaimed  Sassafras,  laying  his  hand  upon  his 
shoulder  and  detaining  him.     "Who  sent  it?" 

"  Say  that  inside  ;  you  read  alone,"  said  Joe. 

"That  is,  nobody  else  must  read,  eh?" 

"Nobody  see  you  read — you  read  alone,  I  was  to  say," 
replied  the  boy. 

"  Ay,  1  am  to  read  it  when  I'm  alone.  Very  good.  Do 
you  know  what  is  in  it?" 

"  Writing  in  it.     You  read  alone,  Sassafras." 

"IMaybe  you  have  read  it  alone — eh,  Joe?"  said  Sassafras, 
with  a  half-laugh. 

"  No,  I  can't  read,"  said  the  boy. 

"  Can't  read  !  I  thought  you  had  been  east  to  the  mission 
to  school?"  returned  the  Western  man. 

"  I  was,  but  I  read  not  writing ;  only  read  book.  You  read 
alone,  Sassafras.  Friend  say  to  me,  *  Tell  Sassafras  to  read 
alone.'  " 

"What  friend?" 

"  Campau.  He  say  :  '  Joe,  you  take  this  to  Sassafras. 
Nobody  see  you  but  Sassafras,  and  Sassafras  read  alone.' 
Nobody  see  me.  I  see  Kirby  and  Englishman  at  Staples's 
shanty,  both  drunk." 

"  You  are  a  good  boy,  Joe.  I  like  you,  Joe.  If  I  win  a 
race  here,  as  I'm  sure  to  do,  you  shall  have  something  to  re- 
member it  bv." 

When  Sassafras  had  said  this,  he  made  a  pause.  He  might 
have  resolved  much  of  which  he  had  asked  the  boy,  by  open- 
ing the  paper,  going  to  the  fire,  and  reading  it ;  but  he  had 
held  the  youth  in  parley  for  another  purpose. 

"  Joe,"  said  he,  in  a  confidential  sort  of  tone,  "  there  was  a 
youDg  Kiowa  at  the  fort ;  is  he  there  now  ?" 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  157 

"  He  is,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  What  do  you  know  about  him  ?"  asked  Sassafras. 

"  Nothiug,"  replied  the  boy,  in  a  sulky  tone.  "I  like  not 
the  Kiowas.  They  kill  my  fader  on  the  Arkansas,  above  the 
great  bend." 

"  Ah  !  I  remember  hearing  of  it,"  said  Sassafras.  "  "Well, 
Joe,  what  does  that  boy  do  at  the  fort  ?" 

"Netting  that  I  know  of,"  said  the  half-breed. 

"  Nothing !  why  don't  he  practise  with  the  bow  and  arrows 
and  his  rifle  at  a  mark  ?" 

"  He's  got  no  bow  and  arrow  and  no  rifle,  but  he  does  prac- 
tise at  a  mark,  and  it's  wonderful." 

"  Tell  me  how,  Joe  ;  I'm  somewhat  anxious  about  that  boy. 
Of  course  he  is  an  Indian  ?" 

"  Kiowa !  bad  Indian  !  son  of  war  chief  beyond  the  Ar- 
kansas, way  up  in  mountains.  I  don't  like  'um.  His  practice 
is  with  a  knife.  Sassafras,  he  can  stand  twenty  feet  off"  from 
a  mark  the  size  of  a  dollar  and  stick  the  point  of  his  knife 
into  it  every  throw." 

"  The  d — 1  he  can  !  That  beats  the  fellow  in  the  calaboose, 
after  we  left  the  Grand  Cayman.  Joe,  have  you  heard  this 
boy  talk  ?" 

"Very  little;  only  to  himself  when  he  thought  he  was 
alone." 

"  Did  you  understand  him  ?     What  was  his  tongue  ?" 

''I  don't  know.  It  was  not  English,  nor  French,  nor  any 
Indian  that  I  understand,  but  they  say  nobody  can  understand 
the  Kiowas." 

Sassafras  pondered  a  few  minutes  and  then  said : 

"  Joe,  do  you  understand  Spanish  ?" 

"I  don't  think  I  do,"  replied  the  boy,  "if  the  Mexicans 
speak  Spanish." 

"  Well,  Joe,  keep  your  eye  on  that  boy  and  take  care  of  his 
knife.  I  say — did  you  see  any  name  on  that  knife  ?  Describe 
the  knife." 

"  Ivory  haft,  two-edged  blade,  five  inches  long,  tapering  to 
a  point.  '  On  the  blade  these  letters  in  gold,  'TOLEDO.'" 

"  And  that  spells  Toledo !  Well,  Joe,  come  and  see  me 
again." 

The  boy  sprang  forward  towards  the  prairie,  with  his  head 


158  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

low,  and  footsteps  soft  and  agile  as  those  of  a  panther.  Sassa- 
fras went  to  the  fire,  threw  on  a  handful  of  brush,  and  as  it 
blazed  up,  read  the  following  note : — 

"  Staples  was  here  trying  to  get  Langlois  to  make  a  difficulty 
between  you  and  Cinnamon.  Beware  of  him.  Be  secret  and 
be  shrewd.  Fear  nothing  from  the  young  Kiowa.  Send  Tom 
Scarlet  to  the  hills  on  a  hunt  with  Frangois.  Campau." 

Sassafras  re-read  the  note,  commenting  as  he  proceeded  : — 

"  *  Staples  trying  to  make  difficulty' — d — 1  doubt  him !  He's 
always  trying  to  do  that.  '  Beware  of  him !'  all  right !  un- 
necessary advice !  '  Fear  nothing  from  the  young  Kiowa.' 
Now,  that's  the  kernel  of  this  nut,  if  I  could  crack  it.  There's 
no  Kiowa  about  him,  I'll  bet  a  hundred  to  one  on  it.  *  Send 
Tom  Scarlet  on  a  hunt  with  Fran9ois.'  That  piece  of  advice 
is  good,  for  if  he  and  Staples  and  Jagger  should  meet  he  would 
betray  himself — he  couldn't  help  it,  and  the  fat  would  be  in 
the  fire  in  no  time.  'Campau  !'  very  good  name  is  Campau, 
especially  on  a  note  promising  to  pay  money  at  bank,  but  if 
Campau  wrote  this  I'll  eat  it.  I  know  his  hand-write,  and  this 
ain't  a  bit  like  it.  Let  me  see !  I'm  not  much  of  a  scholar, 
but  when  I  see  a  thing  once,  of  any  moment,  I  generally  know 
when  I  see  it  again,  and  I'll  swear  I  have  seen  this  hand- 
write  before." 

Sassafras  sat  and  pondered.  Suddenly  he  gave  a  start,  and 
said  : 

"  The  letters  from  New  Orleans  to  Tom  Scarlet  and  me ! 
That's  where  I  saw  it  before ;  and  the  same  hand  that  wrote 
them  wrote  this.  I  wish  we  had  those  letters  here !  *  Fear 
nothing  from  the  young  Kiowa !'  Fear !  I  should  think  not. 
But  I  am  curious  concerning  that  boy,  especially  after  hearing 
of  his  doings  with  a  knife.  It's  my  opinion  that  he  knows 
another  trick  or  two  with  it  besides  casting  it  at  a  mark.  No 
rifle !  That  shows  he  is  no  French  creole  from  below.  No 
bow  and  arrows !  That  shows  he's  no  Indian  from  the  south- 
west. Besides,  he  doesn't  ride  much,  and  he  is  not  in-toed 
when  he's  afoot!  Let  me  see!  The  little  hands  and  feet 
which  Fran9ois  observed!  And  the  eye  which  is  neither 
French  nor  Indian,  but  deeper,  and  brighter  in  its  fire,  than 
either  of  them.     I  have  it!     He's  a  Spanish  creole  from  the 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  159 

islands ;  that's  what  he  is !  And  what  he  is  doing  here  I'll 
find  out  yet.  I'll  just  catch  him  alive  some  of  these  nights, 
knife  or  no  knife." 

He  went  softly  to  the  wagon  under  which  the  Frenchmen 
were  sleeping,  and  awoke  Frangois. 

"  Fran9oi3,"  said  he,  "  take  Tom  Scarlet  on  a  hunt  to  the 
hills  to-mcrrow.     He's  eager  to  go  for  a  day  or  two." 

"  My  faith !  Sassafras,  there's  no  deer  in  the  near  hills. 
The  Indians  have  driven  them  away  by  so  much  hunting." 

"  All  the  better.  Take  him  to  the  farther  hills,  where  the 
deer  are,  and  elk,  too,  and  keep  him  there  a  week.  I  want  to 
get  him  out  of  sight  of  Staples.  Propose  the  hunt  to  him 
forthwith — he'll  readily  agree.  Fill  your  saddle-bags,  and 
start  soon  after  daylight — '  over  the  hills  and  far  away !'  I 
should  like  to  go  on  a  good  hunt  myself,  but  have  much  to  do 
here.  Staples  tries  to  make  a  difficulty  between  me  and  the 
Indians  ;  but  his  scheme  will  fail.  By  the  time  you  return  I 
shall  have  all  ready  for  our  great  stroke." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

"Though  in  the  trade  of  war  I  have  slain  men, 
Yet  do  I  hold  it  very  stufif  o'  the  conscience 
To  do  no  contrived  murder." 

TT  was  the  break  of  day,  and  the  air  came  fresh  and  cool, 
J-  with  the  gray  tints  of  dawn,  from  the  tops  of  the  eastern 
mountains.  The  clarion  of  the  cock  at  the  fort,  and  the  an- 
swering challenge  of  others  at  Captain  Staples's  quarters, 
valorously  ushered  in  the  morn.  In  the  vale  of  Sassafras's 
camp  the  grass  was  heavy  and  dank  with  dew;  the  horses 
rising  one  after  another,  and  shaking  their  manes,  began  to 
crop  it.  The  active  leader  of  the  little  band  was  early  on  foot, 
and  now  there  was  bustle  all  around  in  getting  ready  for  the 
hunting  expedition  of  Fran9ois  and  Tom  Scarlet.  By  the 
blazing  fire,  the  negro  cook,  a  master  of  his  art  in  regard  to 
frying  steaks  and  making  corn  cakes,  was  busy  preparing  the 
breakfast.  The  boiling  coflfee  spread  its  fragrant  essence 
through  the  fresh  morning  air,  while  coUops  of  venison  and 
slices  of  fat  salt  pork  hissed  and  spluttered  in  the  frying-pans, 


160  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO X. 

one  of  which  the  cook  dexterously  held  in  each  hand.  Proud 
■was  the  cook  of  his  skill,  fully  appreciating  the  importance  of 
his  art  to  sojourners  in  the  wilderness.  Behind  the  tents  and 
wao-ons  two  other  men  of  his  race  were  equipping  the  horses 
of  Francois  and  Tom  Scarlet,  while  they  ate  from  feed-boxes 
of  the  rare  dainty,  to  them,  of  sound,  bright  oats,  mixed  with 
Indian  corn.  Further  to  the  rear  another  negro,  perhaps  a 
man,  perhaps  but  a  youth,  for  his  appearance  gave  little  indi- 
cation of  his  age,  was  rubbing  down  the  gray  race-mare, 
Virginia.  This  personage  paid  but  little  regard  to  the  pro- 
ceecfings  of  his  mates  with  the  other  horses;  and  though  his 
wide  nostril  expanded  as  it  owned  the  savory  scent  from  the 
frying-pans,  he  seemed  to  look  upon  the  cook  even  with  a 
supercilious  air.  It  must  have  been  the  dignity  of  his  station 
and  occupation  which  inspired  him,  for  of  natural  advantages 
he  had  few  to  boast.  He  was  black  as  night,  when  the  thun- 
der clouds  fill  the  vast  arch  of  the  sky  and  shut  up  the  stars. 
His  form  was  spare  and  ungainly,  especially  when  he  was  on 
foot,  for  in  the  saddle  he  displayed  a  sort  of  rough  readiness 
and  ease  which  almost  amounted  to  grace.  His  bullet  head 
was  covered  with  close,  crisp  hair  of  the  woolly  order.  His 
features  were  hard.  One  bright  eye,  which  fairly  glowed 
when  he  was  animated,  was  all  he  had.  His  mouth,  enormous 
in  its  width,  was  garnished  with  very  white  and  even  teeth. 
At  a  little  distance  stood  Sassafras,  with  Tom  Scarlet  and 
Fran9ois,  to  whom  he  was  making  rapid  explanations  and 
giving  instructions.  Where  the  valley  and  the  prairie  met 
the  form  of  Jules  was  just  visible  as  he  brushed  the  dew  away 
with  long  strides,  carolling  gaily  on  his  way  to  the  fort  with  a 
message  to  Pierre  Langlois. 

Breakfast  over,  the  hunters  mounted,  and  with  a  hearty 
shake  of  the  hand.  Sassafras  said : 

"  Good-by,  Tom,  and  good  luck.  I  know  you'll  have  sport, 
and  should  like  to  see  you  enjoy  it.  But  that  can't  be  this 
time.  You  have  with  you  one  of  the  best  men  that  ever 
tracked  a  buck  or  shot  an  elk  upon  the  frontier.  Francois, 
within  six  days  return,  and  come  in  secretly  by  night." 

The  hunters  rode  away  up  the  hill,  so  as  to  strike  the  valley 
of  the  Cheyenne  camp  below  the  bend  at  which  it  lay.  Sas- 
safras looked  after  them  until  they  entered  the  thick  timber 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK.  161 

and  underbrush  of  the  saddle  between  the  two  hills.  Then  he 
turned  to  his  favorite  mare  Virginia,  and  his  true  and  trusty 
rider,  Black  Dick. 

"  Dick,  I  shall  not  be  on  the  track  this  morning.  I  have 
another  matter  to  look  after,"  said  Sassafras. 

"  Berry  well.  Massa  tell  what  I  do,"  returned  the  negro, 
with  his  hand  on  the  crest  of  the  mare. 

"  The  boys  will  go  with  you  when  Jules  gets  back.  He 
must  be  breakfasting  at  the  fort,  and  will  be  here  by  the  time 
you  have  finished  your  own." 

As  Sassafras  said  this  the  lips  of  the  negro  parted,  so  as  to 
display  his  formidable  teeth,  all  ready  for  their  matin  meal. 
His  master  continued : 

"  Walk  the  mare  a  bit,  then  canter  a  couple  of  miles  ;  then 
strip  and  take  her  a  mile  at  above  half  speed.  Scrape,  then, 
if  she  will  scrape,  and  wind  up  with  a  good  brushing  gallop, 
twice  round.     You  understand  ?" 

"  I  understand,"  replied  Dick ;  "  but  must  hab  'e  Young 
Chief  to  gallop  with  her.  Dis  ar  mar'  nebber  go  at  all  alone, 
and  'e  Chief  sound  enuff." 

"  N^ever  you  mind  the  Chief,  he'll  stay  where  he  is  until 
almost  noontime,  when  you  can  walk  him.  Do  just  what  I 
say — no  more,  no  less." 

"  I  brieve  I  alius  do  what  massa  say,"  replied  the  black  in 
a  sulky  tone,  with  his  eye  lowering  and  dull.  "  But  massa 
better  tell  'e  more  too.     Dis  ar  mar'  nebber  go  a  bit  alone." 

"Give  her  a  touch  with  the  spur." 

"  Spur !"  said  Dick,  with  a  faint  tinge  of  contempt,  "  'e  mar' 
fight  agen  'e  spur  ;  and  nebber  go  a  good  sharp  lick  alone." 

"  I  don't  want  her  to  go  a  good  sharp  lick,  but  only  to  seem 
as  if  she  was  doing  nearly  her  best,"  said  Sassafras.  Then  he  con- 
tinued to  his  pupil,  and,  in  part,  his  confidant :  "  And  mind  this, 
if  the  Englishman  over  there  saj^s  she  is  tired  after  her  gallop 
don't  you  contradict  a  gentleman  of  experience  and  high  de- 
gree from  the  old  country — a  man  that  can  buy  us  all.  D'ye 
mind,  Dick?" 

The  negro  looked  at  his  master  for  a  moment,  as  if  unable 

to  comprehend  his  drift ;  but  as  Sassafras  looked  steadily  and 

significantly  at  him,  awakening  intelligence  began  to  spread 

over  the  hard  ebony  face.     The  bright   eye  lighted  up,  and 

11 


162  THE  WHITE  HOESE  OF  WOOTTOK 

opeDing  the  capacious  mouth  so  that  the  white  walls  and  red 
lining  yawned  like  a  cavern,  the  black  laughed  till  he  shook 
again. 

"  Come,  that'll  do,  Dick.  You  understand  how  to  work 
after  breakfast  ?" 

"  Brieve  I  do.  Dat  ar  mar'  alius  pull  up  tired,"  said  the 
negro,  with  another  powerful  laugh.  "  I  nebber  contradict  a 
gemman  of  high  degree,  'cause  'e  mar'  alius  pull  up  tired, 
berry  tired  indeed  !     Ho !  ho  !  yah !  berry  tired !" 

Sassafras  walked  off,  rifle  in  hand,  and  the  negro  went  to 
breakfast  with  his  mates.  For  some  time,  seated  on  a  feed- 
box,  he  put  his  great  mouth  and  beautiful  teeth  to  exceeding 
good  use.  Then  looking  at  the  gray  mare  for  a  long  time  with 
the  one  bright  eye,  he  suddenly  burst  out  with  such  a  roar  of 
laughter  that,  rocking  himself  to  and  fro,  he  slipped  off  the 
box,  and  rolled  and  roared  with  ecstasy  upon  the  grass. 

"  What  ail  dat  nigga  Dick  ?"  cried  the  others. 

"  Nebber  contradict  a  gemman  of  high  degree  in  all  'e  life," 
said  Dick  ;  then  sitting  up  and  wiping  his  o'erflowing  eye,  he 
exclaimed,  "  Dat  ar  mar'  alius  pull  up  tir"ed !  berry  tired !  ho  ! 
ho!  ha!" 

Sassafras,  whistling  as  he  went,  proceeded  to  the  Cheyenne 
camp.  Pierre  Lauglois,  in  compliance  with  the  message  deliv- 
ered to  him  by  Jules,  was  already  there,  and  the  chief  sat  grave 
and  still  near  the  brands  and  ashes  of  the  morning  fire.  A 
few  words  from  Sassafras  were  sufficient  to  inform  the  Indian 
and  his  half-brother  that  the  border  man  had  come  to  hold  a 
sort  of  council  with  them.  Cinnamon  rose,  and  passing  by  the 
men  of  his  baud  who  lounged  about  the  camp,  led  the  way  into 
the  wood  on  the  hill.  The  three  men  sat  down  on  a  mossy  log, 
the  chief  in  the  centre.  The  latter  filled  the  pipe  of  ceremony 
with  the  choicest  tobacco,  mixed  with  some  other  dried  and 
fragrant  herbs,  and  lighted  it.  A  puff  or  two  were  taken  in 
turn  by  Sassafras  and  Pierre,  as  a  matter  of  established  form, 
after  which  they  produced  their  own  pipes,  and  all  three  smoked 
steadily  in  silence.  When  the  pipes  were  finished  Sassafras 
opened  his  business  by  a  few  terse  sentences  in  the  Cheyenne 
tongue,  and  concluded  by  requesting  Lauglois  to  relate  what 
had  fiillen  from  Staples  in  the  night  interview  at  the  fort. 
Pierre  readily  complied,  and  as  he  hated  Staples  with  a  viva- 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  163 

cioiis  hatred,  and  there  was  nothing  to  check  his  volubility, 
the  story  lost  nothing  in  the  telling,  and  Pierre's  comments 
upon  the  facts  were  vigorous.  Sassafras  said  nothing.  The 
chief  sat  very  grave  and  still,  with  eyes  cast  down,  until  his 
half-brother  had  finished.  Then  Cinnamon  arose,  and  facing 
the  white  man,  laid  his  hand  upon  the  ornament,  the  horse's 
head,  the  latter  wore  upon  his  breast. 

"  Sassafras,"  said  he,  "  is  a  warrior  of  my  tribe.  Together 
we  went  out  against  the  Sioux  of  the  north,  and  their  young 
men  fell  like  leaves  from  trees  when  the  west  wind  blows. 
The  skin  of  Sassafras,  clothed  from  the  sun  and  wind,  is  pale, 
but  his  blood  is  red  as  that  of  the  Indians  of  the  plains  and 
western  mountains.  He  has  an  enemy.  The  wolverine  is 
hated  by  the  hunter  and  the  warrior,  and  every  man  slays  the 
cunning  beast  when  he  can.  Sassafras  is  a  man !  His  gun  is 
true,  his  hand  is  strong,  and  his  knife  is  keen.  Let  my  friend 
kill  his  enemy,  and  leave  him  to  the  ravens  of  the  woods." 

Cinnamon's  friends  appeared  to  be  somewhat  unprepared 
for  this  decisive  counsel,  though  not  much  startled  by  the  cool 
ferocity  with  which  the  summary  taking  off  of  Staples  was 
proposed.  They  looked  at  each  other,  as  if  each  was  waiting 
for  his  neighbor  to  speak.  Meantime  the  red  man  of  the 
immense  plains  and  stupendous  mountains  played  with  his  tom- 
ahawk, and  felt  its  keen  edge  with  an  air  of  abstraction. 
After  a  silence  which  lasted  from  five  to  ten  minutes,  Sassa- 
fras laid  his  hand  upon  the  rich-brown  arm  of  the  chief,  and 
said : 

"  Cinnamon,  you  mean  well.  The  thing  might  easily  be 
done,  and  very  few  would  go  into  mourning  because  the  ravens 
and  wolves  had  cleaned  the  bones  of  Staples.  In  you  it  would 
be  human  nature  to  take  him  unawares ;  but  I,  you  see,  can- 
not do  it.  I  cannot  kill  a  man  in  cold  blood ;  neither  can  I 
get  up  a  passion,  and  contrive  a  quarrel  for  the  purpose  of 
fixing  him  in  that." 

"  Sassafras  had  no  quarrel  with  the  Sioux ;  he  was  cool 
when  we  went  into  ambush,  and  shot  their  young  men,"  said 
the  chief,  with  a  smile. 

"Ah,  but  circumstances  alter  cases.  Cinnamon,"  said  Sassa- 
fras, in  reply.  "■  It's  true  I  had  no  quarrel  with  the  Sioux, 
but  you  had  ;  and  they  were  a  bloody  set  that  we  fought 


164  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK. 

against.  It  was  a  state  of  war,  which  makes  all  the  difference. 
That  Staples  and  I  shall  have  a  fight  in  the  end,  is  very 
likely.  I  shall  neitlier  bring  it  on,  nor  try  to  avoid  it.  When 
it  happens,  his  time  is  come,  and  I  shall  kill  him.  For  why  ? 
Because  he  will  kill  me,  if  I  do  not  kill  him." 

The  chief  said  no  more,  and  Langlois  looked  relieved. 
Sassafras  adverted  to  the  note  sent  to  him  the  night  before 
from  the  fort,  but  Pierre  made  no  observation.  Kor  could  the 
chief  or  his  half-brother  be  drawn  on  to  talk  of  the  young 
Kiowa ;  so  Sassafras,  changing  the  subject,  spoke  of  the  match 
between  the  gray  mare  and  the  horse  brought  from  the  South 
by  Staples.  The  Indian  listened  with  interest  to  the  praises 
bestowed  by  her  master  on  Virginia ;  and  before  the  three 
men  separated  the  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens. 

The  meridian  heat  was  past,  and  a  tinge  of  crimson  had 
begun  to  flush  the  light  clouds  in  the  western  sky,  when  Sas- 
safras sauntered  carelessly  down  to  the  race-track.  Jagger, 
alias  Reginald  Grosvernor,  was  already  there,  mounted  upon 
the  White  Horse.  This  man  was  about  forty  years  old,  lathy 
in  figure,  about  the  middle  height,  and  far  from  prepossessing 
in  countenance.  His  face  was  thin  and  blotchy.  His  nose  was 
very  red  and  somewhat  swollen,  having  been  scorched  and 
peeled,  instead  of  tanned,  by  the  fervid  western  sun.  His  eye 
was  small  and  uncertain,  stealing  furtive  glances  from  under 
the  drooping  lid  ;  and  his  scanty  hair  and  whiskers  were  sandy 
in  color.  In  his  attire  and  general  get-up  there  was  a  mixture 
of  finery,  soiled  and  worn,  instead  of  the  rough  but  serviceable 
garments  adapted  to  the  prairie  and  the  woods.  A  figured 
satin  stock  did  not  altogether  hide  the  breast  of  a  dirty  shirt. 
His  pearl-colored  doeskin  trousers  were  strapped  down  over 
much-worn  boots  ;  his  coat  of  the  Newmarket  cut,  once  bright- 
green,  but  now  faded,  showed  many  a  soil ;  and  his  Panama 
hat  was  bruised,  broken  and  begrimed.  But  with  all  this  he 
wore  a  profusion  of  jewelry,  and  looked  like  a  member  of  the 
swell  mob  in  adverse  circumstances.  In  external  points  the 
horse  he  rode  seemed  much  the  nobler  animal  of  the  two. 
The  eye  of  Sassafras  ranged  over  him  from  his  muzzle  to  his 
hoofs,  and  dwelt  with  delight  upon  his  excellent  proportions. 
But  he  soon  directed  his  attention  to  the  man,  and  addressing 
him  with  such  familiarity  as  their  presence  in  the  wilds  and 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  165 

their  occupatious  might  justify,  begau  by  complimenting  him 
upon  his  riding  and  evident  general  knowledge  of  horseman- 
ship. The  gudgeon  eagerly  snapped  at  the  bait.  Feeling 
pleased  with  the  admiration  bestowed  upon  him,  and  the 
modest  deference  so  artfully  paid  to  him,  Reginald  decided  to 
patronize  the  young  fellow  before  him  in  so  much  as  to  give 
him  the  benefit  of  some  of  his  knowledge  and  experience  in 
racing  matters. 

Jagger  was,  in  truth,  but  a  poor  horseman ;  his  knowledge 
of  the  turf  was  mostly  confined  to  rascalities,  practised  by  the 
few  who  believe  them  to  be  universal,  in  connection  therewith. 
Sassafras  had  already  taken  the  measure  of  his  man,  but 
although  his  breast  swelled  with  alternate  emotions  of  anger 
and  amusement,  as  Jagger  held  forth  and  instructed  him  in 
the  mysteries  of  breeding,  training  and  riding,  there  was  no 
sign  in  his  hard,  dark,  hickory  face.  It  was  long  since  Jagger 
had  enjoyed  the  enlightening  of  a  man  who  suited  him,  and 
who  seemed  so  thoroughly  the  slave  of  his  humor.  Staples 
was  too  opinionated  to  listen,  and  had  too  much  experience 
of  racing  himself  to  hear  patiently  the  romances  related  by 
Jagger  of  his  own  wonderful  exploits.  Kirby  and  Keeps 
knew  of  no  better  horses  than  the  hardy  and  clever  animals 
on  which  they  had  been  accustomed  to  hunt  the  buffalo. 
They  were  willing  enough  to  drink  with  Jagger  from  dark  to 
dawn ;  but  whenever  he  began  to  feel  the  effects  of  his  deep 
potations,  and  commenced  the  account  of  the  way  in  which  he 
won  the  Derby  with  an  outsider,  and  brought  about  the  defeat 
of  the  three  favorites  for  the  St.  Leger,  the  burly  hunter  sum- 
marily desired  him  to  "  shet  up."  As  for  Tom  of  Lincoln,  he  had 
no  sooner  found  himself  in  America,  and  consequently  out  of 
the  purview  of  a  warrant  from  an  English  magistrate,  than  he 
quarrelled  with  his  patron,  knocked  him  down  in  a  drunken 
spree,  and  went  off  on  his  own  hook,  after  extorting  a  con- 
sidei'able  sum  of  money  from  him.  Jagger  galloped  his  horse, 
and  Sassafras  was  profuse  in  his  professions  of  admiration  and 
delight.  His  intended  victim  talked  long  and  learnedly,  and 
after  going  to  the  fort  to  drink,  talked  long  again.  Once  more, 
twice  more,  they  went  to  the  fort  for  liquor,  and  Jagger  treated 
Staples's  negro  boys.  The  Western  man  made  feints,  as  if 
about  to  leave,  but  Jagger  detained  him,  and  talked  on  and 


166  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

on.  To  the  fort  again,  where  Jagger,  seated  on  a  barrel,  and 
thrashing  his  legs  ^Yith  his  whip,  harangued  and  drank,  and 
declaimed  and  drank  again,  until  his  eyes  were  red  and  watery, 
his  voice  was  thick,  and  he  forgot,  from  time  to  time,  the 
thread  of  his  discourse.  Finally  his  docile  and  admiring  friend 
flatly  contradicted  him  touching  the  merits  and  condition  of 
the  gray  mare,  Virginia.  Jagger  declared  that  she  was  no 
race-horse.  He  had  noticed  her  frame,  and  no  horse  made  in 
that  form  could  run  fast,  or  stay  for  more  than  a  mile.  And 
then  he  hiccoughed  out  that  he  had  seen  her  pull  up  tired, 
after  a  moderate  galloj)  of  two  miles,  and  that  the  black  chap 
who  rode  her  would  confirm  what  he  said.  To  all  appearance 
Sassafras  was  in  high  dudgeon,  and  the  end  of  a  long,  rambling 
discussion  between  them  was  a  bet  of  five  hundred  dollars, 
Sassafras  backing  the  gray  mare,  and  Jagger  taking  the  chest- 
nut horse  belonging  to  his  earnest  and  sincere  friend,  Captain 
Staples.  It  ought  to  be  stated  that  this  result  was  not  finally 
brought  about  until  the  captain  himself  had  arrived,  and  had 
heard  Jagger  relate,  in  a  corner,  with  the  cunning  leer  of 
intoxication  and  wdth  owlish  gravity,  the  distressed  condition 
of  the  mare  after  her  morning  gallop. 

"Are  you  sure  of  that?"  said  Staples. 

"  Sure  as  heggs  is  heggs.  Ask  the  blackamoor  who  rode 
her,"  said  Jagger,  with  a  reel. 

"What,  Black  Dick?  O,  if  he  said  she  was  tired,  or 
allowed  she  was  tired  when  you  made  the  observation,  it's  all 
right.  Make  the  bet,  and  don't  let  Sassafras  back  out.  Make 
the  bet  at  once,"  said  the  venerable  and  disinterested  Staples. 

The  bet  was  made,  play  or  pay,  as  Staples  in  a  whisper 
suggested,  and  Jagger  obstinately  insisted.  The  money  was 
staked  in  Campau's  hands,  and  was  by  him  handed  over  to  the 
manager  of  the  company  for  safe-keeping.  More  drink  and 
more  hubbub  followed.  At  length  the  parties  separated. 
Staples  followed  Sassafras  into  the  dark  shade,  and  exchanged 
a  few  sentences  with  him.  Jagger  was  dragged  off  to  the 
shanty  between  Kirby  and  Keeps,  and  awoke  the  next  morn- 
ing with  a  headache  and  an  intense  longing  for  soda-water, 
of  which  there  was  none  within  about  a  thousand  miles.  Two 
days  after  the  match  was  run,  a  dash  twice  round  the  course. 
The  chestnut  horse  led  for  a  mile  and  three-quarters,  and 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  167 

Jagger  oracularly  announced  that  it  was  all  over.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  if  Black  Dick  had  heard  him  he  might  have  been 
loath  to  contradict,  in  fact,  a  "gemman  of  high  degree ;"  but  as 
it  was,  he  brought  Virginia  to  the  front  in  the  last  quarter  of 
a  mile,  and  won  by  a  length. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

"Haste  still  pays  haste,  and  leisure  answers  leisure, 
Like  doth  quit  like,  and  Measure  still  for  Measure." 

IT  was  night,  and  the  store  at  the  fort  was  almost  full  of 
rough  and  noisy  men.  Indians,  hunters,  traders,  and  a  few 
negroes  were  there,  talking  and  drinking.  Sassafras  was,  for 
the  present,  king  of  the  company.  He  had  received  the  stakes 
of  the  race,  and  had  liberally  treated  all  who  chose  to  partake 
at  his  expense.  Everybody  did  choose,  except  the  manager, 
and  one  or  two  of  his  clerks ;  and  one  jug  of  whiskey  alter 
another  was  consumed  by  the  seasoned  and  thirsty  rovers  who 
composed  the  throng.  Jagger  was  in  the  crowd,  at  least  half 
drunk.  The  liquor  had  not,  however,  allayed  the  bitterness 
which  had  possessed  him  ever  since  the  gray  mare  collared 
the  chestnut  horse,  and  ran  home  a  winner.  Everybody  and 
everything  was  to  blame,  except  himself;  and  he  distributed 
his  blame  with  such  plentiful  impartiality,  that  nothing  but 
the  prospect  of  more  whiskey,  and  perhaps  a  row,  prevented 
Kirby  and  Keeps  from  leaving  him  to  "  paddle  his  own  canoe," 
as  the  former  expressed  it.  He  was  loud  and  severe  against 
Staples  as  a  trainer.  The  clamor  of  his  complaints  and  up- 
braidings  had  driven  the  old  man  to  leave  his  company.  In 
default  of  a  better,  he  now  seized  upon  Sassafras  as  a  listener, 
and  declaimed,  with  droning  vehemence  and  ludicrous  senti- 
ment, upon  his  own  knowledge  and  experience,  and  the  stu- 
pidity and  obstinacy  of  Staples  and  his  men.  If  his  own  sug- 
gestions had  been  followed,  the  horse  could  hardly  have  lost, 
though  the  riding  of  him  was  wretched,  and  simply  disgusting 
to  one  who  knew  what  riding  was. 

"  What  you  say  is  true  in  the  main,"  said  Sassafras,  with 
apparent  candor  ;  "  but  you  could  hardly  expect  science  and 


168  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

• 
skill  here,  such  as  you  have  picked  up,  year  after  year,  at 
Epsom,  Newmarket,  aod  where  not.     I  say  you  look  for  too 
much,  and  try  us  by  too  high  a  standard.    We  are  well  enough 
in  our  way." 

"  Ay  !  but  it's  a  d d  bad  way  !"  cried  Jagger.     "  Was 

there  ever  a  race  thrown  away  like  this  before?  No  condition, 
no  management,  no  riding,  no  nothing.  I  protest  to  you,  Sas- 
safras, that  you  are  the  only  man  in  these  parts  with  a  bit  of 
sense.  You  appreciate  my  abilities  and  acquirements,  and 
you  are  the  only  one,  unless  it  be  the  red  man  at  your  elbow, 
who  seems  to  be  interested  in  what  I  say." 

"  Yes,  Cinnamon  is  interested  in  your  remarks — deeply  in- 
terested, considering  that  he  can  hardly  understand  the  lan- 
guage. But  fill  up,  and  let  us  drink  all  round :  To  the  turf 
and  the  races  thereof— may  the  best  horses  always  win !" 

"  And  that's  what  they  never  can  do,  as  long  as  ignorance 
and  folly  have  charge  of  them,"  said  Jagger,  after  doing  jus- 
tice to  the  toast.  "  Staples  isn't  fit  to  train  a  plough-horse,  to 
say  nothing  of  a  racer.  I  could  teach  you  a  good  deal.  Sassa- 
fras. You  are  tractable,  and  not  above  learning  from  a  man 
like  me.  In  six  months  I  could  make  a  man  of  you.  But 
you  overestimate  that  gray  mare — you  do  indeed !" 

"  It  may  be  so,"  returned  Sassafras.  "  I  raised  her  myself, 
and  it  is  but  natural  that  I  should  think  well  of  her.  She 
isn't  Flying  Childers  nor  Eclipse ;  but  for  the  wooden  country 
she  was  bred  in  and  the  sort  of  races  we  run  out  here  the  mare 
is  a  good  one." 

"  Good  one !  You  mean  that  there's  nothing  but  very  bad 
'uns  to  try  her  with,"  said  Jagger,  with  a  snarl.  "  Why,  she 
couldn't  win  a  hunter's  plate  in  any  county  in  England  ;  and 
if  she  ran  for  a  saddle  and  bridle  at  Barnet  Fair,  I  doubt 
whether  she  could  pull  it  off.  There's  better  than  her  in  stage 
coaches  and  doctors'  gigs  where  I  came  from." 

"  Very  likely  !"  cried  Sassafras,  "  but  she  can  beat  any  horse 
west  of  the  big  river  (save  one)  two  or  three-mile  heats,  weight 
for  age."  With  this  he  rose  and  struck  the  table  with  his  nst. 
Jagger  rose  too,  and  their  loud  voices  in  opposition  to  each 
other  stilled  the  brawling  in  other  parts  of  the  store,  and  drew 
the  men  around  them.  Hunters  and  Indians,  half  drunk, 
ready  with  the  knife  and  pistol  on  small  occasions,  hemmed 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  169 

them  in.  The  broad-shouldered  Kirby  and  the  lithe,  snaky 
Keeps  ranged  themselves  with  Jagger.  Cinnamon  and  Pierre 
Langlois  stood  with  Sassafras,  and  young  Campau  was  close 
behind  him. 

"  I  say,  and  mean  no  offence,  only  a  fair  race,  if  anybody 
wants  to  take  it  up  and  make  it,  that  she  can  beat  any  horse 
save  one  west  of  the  big  river,  weight  for  age,  two  or  three- 
mile  heats.     Is  that  fair  ?"  said  Sassafras. 

"It  is  good,"  replied  Cinnamon. 

"  Then  if  anybody  wants  it,  I'll  make  the  match  for  a 
thousand  dollars  a  side." 

"  Say  save  none  !  You  might  as  well,  for  there  is  not  one 
can  beat  Virginia,  the  flower  of  St.  Jo. !"  said  young  Campau. 

"  Was  there  ever  such  stuff  as  this  talked  before  ?"  said  Jag- 
ger, with  much  disgust.  "  Why,  a  winner  of  the  Oaks  could 
not  be  more  highly  spoken  of." 

"  There  have  been  some  not  half  as  good,"  replied  Sassa- 
fras. 

"  I've  been  mistaken  in  this  man,"  said  Jagger  to  Kirby. 
"  He's  a  bigger  fool  than  you,  or  Staples." 

The  hunter  was  about  to  make  a  rough  and  rude  reply,  when 
Keeps  interfered : 

"  Listen !  listen !  Sassafras  is  going  to  speak.  Hear  all  and 
say  nothing."  , 

"  The  challenge  is  made,  coupled  with  the  exception.  What 
I  said  I'll  stand  to.  Any  horse  west  of  the  Mississippi  river 
except  one,"  said  Sassafras. 

"  And  what  one  may  the  excepted  horse  be  ?"  asked  Jagger. 

"  Well,  sir !  your  own — the  White  Horse.  I  have  a  high 
opinion  of  him,  and  cannot  tell  how  good  he  may  be,"  replied 
Sassafras.  "  Besides,  with  the  science  and  skill  of  Epsom  and 
Newmarket  against  her  in  the  way  of  training,  Virginia 
would  be  under  another  great  disadvantage.  Therefore  the 
exception  holds." 

"  Keeps,  this  man  is  no  fool !"  said  Jagger.  He  then  ex- 
claimed :  "  Sassafras,  you  are  a  good  fellow,  and  fairly  wise  for 
your  limited  experience.     I'll  treat  all  hands  upon  it." 

There  was  a  hum  of  applause,  and  the  butts  of  several  rifles 
fell  upon  the  floor,  testifying  the  emphatic  approbation  of  their 
owners  at  this  announcement.     They  drank,  and  drank  deeply. 


170  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

Jagger  began  to  brag  of  the  races  he  had  won  and  the  feats 
he  had  performed  with  the  White  Horse  in  England. 

"  He  is  responi^ible  for  the  deaths  of  two  noblemen,  and  was 
the  cause  of  the  breaking  up  of  the  ministry,"  said  Jagger. 
"  They  couldn't  pay  their  losses  when  he  won  the  Ascot  Cup. 
One  of  'em  took  prussic  acid,  and  the  other  blowed  his  brains 
out  at  the  Lord  Mayor's  dinner-table.  Sassafras  had  better 
not  match  him,  I  can  tell  you." 

"You're  right,  Mr.  Grosvernor,"  said  Sassafras.  "Prussic 
acid  wouldn't  agree  with  me,  and  I've  a  notion  it's  better  to 
blow  out  another  man's  brains  than  my  own.  If  I  was  to 
match  Virginia  against  your  horse  I  should  want  a  heap 
of  odds  in  the  weights  as  well  as  the  stakes.  He  looks  like  a 
grand  horse,  and  I  reckon  you  have  got  him  into  fine  con- 
dition." 

"  I  have,  by  following  my  own  method.  I  have  refused  to 
listen  to  Staples,  and  have  got  the  horse  in  better  order  than 
you  ever  saw  a  racer  before.  I  was  my  own  trainer  in 
England." 

"  I  told  Black  Dick  how  it  was,"  said  Sassafras.  "  I  said 
this  horse  has  had  the  grand  preparation  by  the  English 
method."  (He  had  really  said :  "  Dick,  there's  a  horse  that 
looks  w^ell  outwardly,  but  he's  fat  inside,  and  couldn't  last  in  a 
good  race.")  "However,"  continued  Sassafras,  "next  to  win- 
ning with  a  right  good  horse  is  being  beaten  by  one.  Since 
the  horse  is  so  famous,  and  has  come  so  far,  it  would  be  a  pity 
to  let  him  go  away  without  running  against  him  once.  We 
are  up  here  in  the  woods  and  out  on  the  prairies,  and  few  of 
us  may  ever  see  one  of  his  stamp  again.  Kow,  if  you'll  give 
me  forty  pounds  the  best  of  the  weights,  and  bet  me  two  to 
one  in  the  stakes,  I'll  run  Virginia  against  him,  two-mile 
heats." 

"  I  could  beat  her  easily  enough,"  said  Jagger,  "  for  I  should 
ride  him  myself;  but  I'll  make  no  match  of  that  sort." 

"  I  have  another  proviso  to  mention,"  said  Sassafras.  "  If 
I  lose,  as  no  doubt  I  shall,  you  shall  tell  me  all  about  your 
method  of  training.  Give  us  some  more  whiskey  here,  and 
we'll  have  a  match  somehow." 

Jagger  drank  again,  and  then  held  a  whispering  consulta- 
tion with  Kirby  and  Keeps.    These  worthies  strongly  advised 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  171 

the  making  of  another  match,  seeing  in  it  the  probable  source 
of  much  \Yhiskey  and  some  money.  But  Keeps  protested 
against  acceding  to  the  terms  mentioned  by  Sassafras.  "  Let 
us,"  said  he,  "  hold  out  for  even  weights.  The  odds  in  money 
is  nothing.  It  makes  no  difference  what  you  lay  when  you  are 
dead  sure  to  win.  Sassafras  will  refuse  to  strike  hands  for 
even  weights,  but  you  can  afford  to  stand  out  as  long  as  he 
can.     The  night  is  young  yet,  and  we're  in  no  hurry." 

"  That's  it !"  said  Kirby.  "  I'll  stay  here  all  night  before 
anybody  shall  get  the  better  of  Mr.  Grosvernor  in  anything. 
Meantime  there's  plenty  of  whiskey  in  the  store,  and  by  call- 
ing for  it  often  we  can  make  Sassafras  drunk.  Once  get  him 
drunk,  and  he'll  agree  to  anything  you  may  choose  to  stand  out 
for.     Eh,  Keeps  ?" 

The  latter  made  no  reply,  but  his  look  seemed  to  intimate 
that  in  a  drinking  match  between  Jagger  and  Sassafras,  the 
former  would  be  drunk  first.  Eeturning  to  the  group  in  the 
centre  of  the  room,  Jagger  said :  "  I  will  make  this  race  on 
the  condition  that  each  horse  shall  carry  the  weights  for  The 
Whip  at  Newmarket,  ten  stun,  which  is  one  hundred  and  forty 
pounds,  you  know.  My  horse  holds  The  Whip  now.  I  chal- 
lenged for  it,  named  him,  and  it  was  resigned  by  the  Duke  of 
Grafton  without  a  race.  I  was  sorry  for  the  Duchess,"  con- 
tinued the  veracious  Jagger,  "as  an  old  friend,  I  may  say  rela- 
tive. She  was  much  vexed  at  their  having  to  give  up  the 
trophy.  In  fact,  I  brought  the  White  Horse  from  England 
in  order  that,  he  being  out  of  the  way,  the  Duke  may  have  a 
chance  to  win  the  prize  again.  He  had  none  whatever  while 
I  was  there." 

"  I  should  think  not !  but  what  has  that  got  to  do  with  a 
race  between  us,  four  thousand  miles  away  ?"  said  Sassafras. 

"  It  has  this  to  do,"  replied  Jagger,  pompously :  "  I  should 
lose  standing  in  the  Jockey  Club,  if  I  ran  the  winner  of  The 
Whip  with  less  than  ten  stun." 

,  "  I  don't  ask  you  to  carry  less,"  said  Sassafras ;  "  but  I 
reckon  the  Jockey  Club  w'on't  care  what  an  old  gray  mare, 
owned  on  the  outskirts  of  the  American  settlements,  and  run 
in  the  Indian  country,  carries.  Let  the  horse  carry  one  hun- 
dred and  forty  pounds,  and  the  mare  one  hundred  pounds. 
That  will  be  the  fair  thing!" 


172  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  I  will  make  no  matcli  if  it  be  not  even  weights,  ten  stun 
each,"  replied  Jagger.  "  I  don't  care  about  running  here  at 
all,  especially  heats.  There's  a  sort  of  barbarity  in  it,  and  it'll 
be  positive  cruelty  to  the  mare  in  this  instance." 

"  Well,  she  may  save  her  bacon  by  cooking  mine,  and  get 
clean  distanced  in  the  first  heat,"  said  Sassafras. 

"  I  may  choose  to  distance  her,  or  I  may  not,"  said  Jagger, 
complacently.  "If  I  make  a  waiting  race,  she  will  not  be 
distanced ;  if  the  horse  comes  away  with  the  running,  she  will 
be.  But  it  would  be  an  inglorious  conquest  for  me,  and  I  do 
not  care  about  running  the  horse  at  all.  I  have  trained  him 
for  amusement  merely,  and  would  not  match  him  at  home  for 
less  than  a  thousand  guineas  a  side." 

"  There  must  be  a  heap  of  money  in  your  country ;  we  are 
poor  folks  here,"  returned  the  border  man.  "  Still,  if  we  can 
agree  about  weights,  I'll  try  to  make  it  worth  your  while,  by 
consenting  that  the  winner  shall  have  both  horses,  as  well  as 
the  stakes.     Now  you  will  give  me  the  forty  pounds?" 

"  I'll  give  nothing  !  nothing !  I  hate  giving !"  cried  Jagger. 
"  Nobody  proposes  to  give  anything  to  me." 

*'  Ain't  there  though  ?"  said  Kirby,  aside.  "  I've  promised 
you  a  h — 1  of  a  licking,  for  cheating  me  at  cribbage,  and  then 
blackguarding  me  to  the  old  man." 

"  Look  here !"  said  Keeps  to  Jagger,  "  split  the  difference, 
and  give  him  twenty  pounds  in  weight.  What's  the  odds, 
when  you  are  sure  to  win  ?" 

"  AVhy,  certainly  it  nuitters  but  little,  for  a  ton  would  not 
bring  the  horses  together,  under  the  different  methods  of  train- 
ing," replied  Jagger.  "  But  I  concede  nothing  in  the  way  of 
weight.  It  is  a  condescension  in  me,  which  Sassafras  don't 
deserve,  to  make  a  race  with  him  at  all,  and  if  I  do  it,  I'll 
have  my  way." 

The  Western  man  heard  the  latter  part  of  Jagger's  remarks, 
and  a  biting  reply  had  almost  escaped  him.  He  controlled 
his  rising  auger,  however,  and  said,  "  Why  !  I  thought  it  was 
altogether  different  in  your  country.  We  have  heard  that 
there,  if  a  man  was  passably  well  behaved,  and  had  the  horse 
to  do  it,  he  could  run  and  win  against  the  very  best  in  the 
land.  They  have  told  us  that  Eclipse  himself,  though  bred 
by  a  royal  duke,  was  owned  and  run  by  a  butcher ;  and  I  have 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  173 

heard  say  that  the  prize-fighter  who  licked  Gregson  has  often 
in  races  beat  George  the  King." 

"  Not  in  matches,  young  man  !"  returned  Jagger,  snappishly. 
"  A  gentleman  of  my  rank  and  standing  in  the  country  would 
hardly  condescend  to  make  a  match  with  you  in  England." 

"  I  reckon  that's  so  !"  replied  Sassafras,  significantly.  "  But 
here  w^e  are  in  America,  four  or  five  thousand  miles  from  Eng- 
land, and  well  on  towards  the  heart  of  the  continent.  If  it 
comes  to  rank  and  standing  here,  Cinnamon  is  the  greatest 
man  among  us.  But  that's  neither  here  nor  there.  What 
you  propose  as  to  weights  is  hardly  reasonable.  Virginia 
would  have  to  carry  thirty  or  forty  pounds  of  dead  weight, 
enough  to  beat  almost  any  horse." 

"  Ride  her  yourself,  and  she  need  carry  none.  I  intend  to 
ride  the  White  Horse,"  replied  Jagger. 

"  I  reckon  it  would  be  hardly  wise  for  me  to  ride  against 
you,  from  what  I  have  seen  of  you  in  the  saddle.  Newmarket 
against  St.  Jo.  is  too  steep,  unless  it  was  in  a  bufiTalo  hunt.  I 
ought,  by  rights,  to  have  another  Englishman  to  ride  against 
you,  but  I'll  warrant  you  can't  tell  me  where  to  get  one  who 
is  qualified  just  now.  Therefore,  you  ought  to  give  twenty 
pounds  in  weight,  as  against  Black  Dick,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  difierence  between  our  horses.     Come  here,  Dick !" 

The  one  eye  of  the  negro  had  flashed  from  Sassafras  to 
Jagger,  and  from  the  latter  to  Sassafras,  like  a  dancing  jack- 
o'-lantern  in  a  dark  night,  during  the  latter  part  of  the  dis- 
cussion. He  stood  on  the  outer  circle  of  the  listeners,  but  his 
master  now  stretched  forth  his  hand  and  hauled  him  into  the 
centre  of  the  throng,  saying  : 

"  Do  you  think  I  ought  to  run  Virginia  against  the  White 
Horse  at  less  than  thirty  or  forty  pounds,  Dick  ?" 

"  I  think  I  nebber  run  'e  mar'  agen  'e  White  Horse  at  all. 
A  darkey  knows  beans  when  cle  bag  is  open  !"  replied  Dick. 

"  Good,  ebony,  good  !  Give  the  blackamoor  a  drink,  there !" 
cried  Jagger. 

"  AVho  'e  call  blackamoor  ?"  said  Dick,  in  his  sulkiest  tone. 
"  Don't  raise  'e  blackamoor  in  Ole  Virginia,  I  reckon." 

"Never  mind  !"  said  Sassafras.  "  Drink  to  Mr.  Grosvernor 
and  the  White  Horse  !  And  never  contradict  a  gentleman  of 
high  degree  from  the  old  country,  if  he  should  be  pleased  to 
call  you  the  d — 1  himself." 


174  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  De  debbel  hisself  no  fool !"  said  the  black ;  "  'e  nebber 
run  agen  'e  White  Horse  !" 

There  was  a  laugh  as  Dick  said  this,  and  Jagger  "was  espe- 
cially merry. 

"  You  hear  ',vhat  the  boy  says — how  can  you  insist  on  even 
weights  ?"  said  Sassafras. 

"  For  the  same  reason  that  you  desire  to  run-  heats — it's  my 
fancy ;  and  I'll  have  the  match  no  other  way,"  replied  Jagger. 

"  NVait  a  few  minutes,  and  I'll  decide,"  said  Sassafras. 

He  took  aside  Cinnamon,  Campau  and  Black  Dick,  to  hold 
a  consultation  in  his  turn.  Campau  talked  rapidly  in  whis- 
pers. The  Indian  delivered  his  opinion  in  just  six  words : 
"  Virginia  beat  the  Snake-Eye's  horse !"  Black  Dick  was 
understood  by  the  by-stauders  to  urge  objections  and  remon- 
strances to  the  end,  but  they  were  overruled  by  Campau.  Sas- 
fras  looked  grave.  He  weighed  the  reasons  advanced  by  his 
followers,  and,  as  usual  with  great  men  and  commanders, 
found  none  sufficient  to  set  aside  the  resolution  he  had  come 
to  before  he  asked  his  friends  and  subordinates  for  their  advice. 
He  passed  into  the  centre  of  the  eager  throng  and  said  : 

"  Mr.  Grosvernor,  I  accept  the  conditions — Virginia  against 
the  White  Horse  at  even  weights,  one  hundred  and  forty 
pounds  each,  one  thousand  dollars  a  side  in  money,  and  the 
winner  to  take  both  horses.  To  run  this  day  week  ;  two-mile 
heats." 

"Very  well!"  said  Jagger,  after  having  been  whispered  to 
by  Keeps  and  Kirby ;  "  but  the  match  shall  be  play  or  pay, 
and  the  money  shall  be  put  up  now." 

This  was  agreed  to.  The  minute  was  made  and  the  money 
staked  with  the  manager. 

"  What  a  fool  he  is !"  said  Jagger,  as  Sassafras  left  the  place 
with  Black  Dick. 

As  they  passed  along  towards  their  own  camp  they  came 
suddenly  upon  Cinnamon,  Pierre  Langlois  and  the  young 
Kiowa.  Sassafras  was  about  to  seize  the  latter,  but  thought 
better  of  it.  He  said  good-night  to  the  chief  and  went  on 
towards  his  own  camp.  As  they  neared  it  the  one-eyed  black 
spoke : 

"  Massa,  I  don't  know  'bout  dis  yere  match.  The  folks 
away  down  in  Ole  Virginia  alius  say  de  good  English  horse 


.      THE  WRITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  175 

can  beat  de  good  horse  of  de  States.     Dey  say  dat  in  King 
George." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Sassafras,  "  and  we  are  in  deep  water  now. 
But  it's  to  be  heats,  Dick ;  and  that  fellow  can  neither  train 
nor  ride.     You  can  outride  him." 

"  Ay,  but  de  dead  weight — forty  pounds.  Besides,  I  brieve 
dat  White  Horse  to  be  a  good  'un.  I  see  him  run  through 
dat  stretch  faster  than  a  buck.  I  brieve  he  outrun  de  mar' 
anywhere." 

"  But  it's  heats,  and  he'll  be  in  no  condition." 

"  De  mar'  '11  be  in  no  condition  when  she's  carried  me  and 
forty  pounds  dead  weight  two  miles." 

"  Hush !  I  hear  a  man  in  the  bushes.  Say  nothing  to  any- 
body, especially  as  to  their  horse's  want  of  condition." 

The  man  in  the  bushes  was  Captain  Staples.  He  was  not 
in  an  amiable  frame  of  mind.  Jagger's  talk  had  enraged 
him ;  he  was  suspicious  of  Sassafras,  and  he  was  irritated  be- 
cause he  had  been  waiting  long.  The  Western  man  dismissed 
the  negro  and  said : 

"  Well,  captain,  what's  the  word  to-night  ?" 

"  The  first  word  is  that  I  want  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars 
of  you,"  said  Staples.  "  You  have  drawn  the  money,  and 
short  settlements  make  long  friends." 

"Drawn  the  money — yes!  but  I  have  staked  it  again,  and 
as  much  more,  to  make  up  your  part  in  a  match  for  a  thousand 
a  side." 

"  My  part !  Who  gave  you  authority  to  make  matches  for 
me  ?"  said  Staples. 

"  You  did.  Are  we  not  partners  in  this  little  scheme  to 
relieve  Reginald  What-you-may-call  of  some  of  his  ready 
money  ?" 

"  That's  as  may  turn  out.  I  doubt  whether  your  old  mare 
can  beat  that  White  Horse  the  race  you've  made." 

"  You  know  what  it  is,  then  ?"  said  Sassafras. 

"  Ay,  I  heard  of  it  as  soon  as  you  agreed,  and  have  been  in 
the  brush  on  the  hill,  like  a  fox  prowling  round  a  camp-fire, 
ever  since.  The  Cheyennes  came  near  where  I  lay  once ;  it 
was  well  they  didn't  stumble  on  me." 

"  It  was,  captain,"  said  Sassafras  ;  "  for  if  they  had,  your 
scalp  would  have  been  at  one  of  their  belts  by  this  time,  in  the 
event  of  your  bringing  on  a  fight." 


176  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK    , 

"  It  might.  They're  here  in  numbers,  and  the  chief  is  as 
sassy  as  if  the  continent  was  owned  by  him.  But  W'hat  a  fool 
you  were  to  agree  to  carry  a  hundred  and  forty  pounds !  The 
old  mare  will  be  licked  into  fits,  unless  something  is  done." 

"  I  don't  say  she  isn't  beatable,  but  I  couldn't  stand  the 
bragging  of  that  English  lord.  I  am  an  American — a  man 
raised  in  Old  Virginia — and  nobody  shall  overcrow  me  without 
being  called  to  show  his  hand." 

"  I  honor  them  sentiments,"  said  Captain  Staples.  "  My 
patriotism  is  well  known,  too,  and  I'll  show  it  by  keeping  as 
much  of  this  British  gold  in  the  country  as  I  can.  But  what 
possessed  you  to  make  such  a  fool's  match  as  this  ?  You've  got 
nobody  to  ride." 

"  There's  lead  enough  at  the  fort,  to  make  Black  Dick  the 
weight,"  said  Sassafras. 

"  Black  Dick — black  devil !  The  Englishman  has  ridden 
in  matches  for  thousands  of  guineas — at  least  he  says  so — 
and  shall  Black  Dick,  with  forty  pounds  of  dead  weight,  be 
put  up  against  him?" 

"What  can  I  do?" 

"  Pay  forfeit.  The  Englishman  will  then  be  so  full  of  con- 
ceit that  he'll  make  another  match  on  better  terms  for  you, 
and  for  twice  as  much,     I  say,  pay  forfeit." 

"  There  is  no  forfeit.  The  match  is,  play  or  pay.  The 
money  up." 

"  Then  the  Englishman  has  got  you,"  said  Staples,  with  a 

show  of  disgust.     "  I'm  d d  if  you  ain't   damaged   the 

Western  turf  and  disgraced  the  country  worse  nor  Old  Hull 
when  he  surrendered  to  the  British  and  that  red  devil  Tecum- 
seh.  I  ain't  in  it,  and  I  must  have  my  money  before  it  comes 
off." 

"  I  might  very  well  dispute  that,  and  the  forty  Cheyennes 
would  stand  by  me,"  said  Sassafras ;  "  but  take  your  own 
way.  You  always  undervalued  the  mare.  Suit  yourself  as 
to  whether  you'll  go  in  or  not.  You  musn't  play  fast  and 
loose  up  to  the  race  though.  In  three  days  I  must  have  your 
answer — ay  or  no.  If  you  say  no,  I  shall  be  able  to  carry 
it  on  alone ;  and  then,  sink  or  swim,  let  the  hardest  fend  off." 

"  But  you've  no  right  to  carry  it  on  alone,  if  you  can  carry 
it  on  to  win,"  said  Staples.     "  I  brought  the  Englishman  and 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  177 

his  money  up  into  this  country,  and  have  got  a  lien  upon  'em. 
Nobody  must  disregard  my  rights." 

"Nobody  wants  to." 

"  They  had  better  not  want  to.  No  race  will  come  off,  if 
I  tell  the  Englishman  not  to  run." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  said  Sassafras.  "  But  in  that  case  a  thou- 
sand dollars  of  his  gold  and  his  White  Horse  will  come  off. 
Keeps  advised  the  making  of  it  play  or  pay,  and  the  gentle- 
man insisted  upon  it." 

"  Keeps  is  a  villain  and  Kirby  is  a  bull-head ;  I  tell  you 
that  in  confidence,  though  I  dare  say  you  have  suspected  as 
much  yourself,"  said  the  old  man.  After  a  pause,  he  added : 
"  I'd  sooner  be  in  with  you  than  anybody.  Sassafras.  In  deep 
— and  safe,  safe !  You  work  the  mare  three  or  four  days,  and 
then  I'll  tell  you  what  I  propose  to  do.  AYork  her  good  and 
strong  four  days." 

"  I  said  I  wanted  your  answer  in  three  days — four  will  not 
do,"  said  Sassafras. 

"  Well,  well  1  You  young  men  are  so  suspicious  of  your  elders, 
not  to  say  betters — I  mean  in  wisdom  and  virtue.  You  might 
trust  to  my  honor  for  six  days,  I  should  think,  if  it  came  to 
that.  But  you  young  men  lack  faith  and  confidence  in  other 
people.  It's  a  great  misfortune.  When  I  was  your  age,  I 
was  the  confidingest  mortal  that  ever  was.  But  the  world  has 
growed  worse  fast  since  then." 

"  Looking  at  what  you  are  now,  I  should  think  it  has,"  said 
Sassafras.  "  But  never  mind,  captain !  We  will  endeavor  to 
recoup  ourselves  for  the  degeneracy  of  all,  by  winning  this 
man's  thousands,  and  a  good  deal  more." 

"  Out  of  each  thousand  won,  I  am  to  have  six  hundred,"  said 
Staples.     "  That  is  the  agreement,  you  know." 

"  Ay  !  and  I  know  you  are  to  have  the  Englishman's  horse 
in  your  stable,"  said  Sassafras.  "  But,  Staples,  I'm  opposed 
on  principle  to  dosing." 

"  Dosing  be  d d  !  who  said  anything  about  dosing  ?"  said 

Staples.  "  I  hate  to  hear  the  thing  mentioned,  especially  when 
a  bucket  of  water  or  the  accidental  slipping  of  the  muzzle  may 
do  just  as  w^ell.  Work  the  mare — work  her  good  and  strong ! 
I  begin  to  think  she  may  win.     Good-night !" 

As  the  old  man  moved  off  rapidly,  Sassafras  stood  and  looked 
12 


178  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

after  him,  until  his  form  was  lost  in  the  dusky  light  and  mist 
that  hung  over  the  prairie.  The  slight  rustle  of  leaves  and 
boughs  in  the  bushes  close  at  hand  caught  the  Western  man's 
ear,  and  he  saw  the  young  Kiowa  stealing  swiftly  but  cautiously 
away.  With  a  bound  like  the  spring  of  a  panther,  Sassafras 
went  through  the  underbrush,  and  took  after  him.  The  youth 
was  swift  of  foot,  but  not  so  swift  as  the  powerful  frontier  man, 
especially  over  the  broken  ground  and  through  the  bushes. 
The  latter  gained  on  the  boy,  whose  hard  breathing  he  could 
already  hear.  His  hand  was  ready  to  be  stretched  out  to 
grasp  the  flying  youth,  when  another  figure  suddenly  started 
up,  and  caught  Sassafras  in  its  arms.  It  was  the  Indian 
chief. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

'Kingly  his  crest,  and  towards  the  West, 
With  his  battle-axe  he  pointed." 


IT  was  the  golden  evening  of  the  w^estern  day  towards  the 
fall  of  the  year,  and  the  foliage  of  the  woods  was  rich  with 
varied  tints,  and  full  of  gorgeous  colors.  The  sun  touched 
the  horizon  in  the  west,  and  fell  upon  a  slope  of  wooded  laud 
which  declined  into  a  thickly-timbered  valley.  Some  of  the 
trees,  without  having  lost  their  freshness,  seemed  to  have 
caught  the  rich  hues  of  the  sky.  The  great  white-oaks,  how- 
ever, retained  their  glossy  green.  In  the  large  black-walnut 
trees  the  squirrels  were  busy,  as  if  preparing  for  and  rejoicing 
over  the  harvest  which  was  ripening  on  the  wide-spreading 
branches.  A  light  breeze  played  among  the  boughs  of  the 
loftiest  trees  and  rustled  the  crimson  leaves  of  the  gigantic 
creepers  which  had  twined  and  wreathed  to  the  tops  of  the 
monarchs  of  the  wood.  It  did  not  reach  the  young  saplings 
which  had  sprung  up  thick  from  the  rich  mould  of  so  many 
generations  of  their  ancestors.  Here  at  once  went  on  the 
shoot  of  infancy,  the  rise  of  aspiring  youth,  the  strength  of 
middle  life,  the  ripening  of  autumn,  the  wither  of  age,  and 
the  rot,  mould  and  decay  from  which  sprang  the  resurrection. 
And  thus,  saith  the  great  poet  of  antiquity,  it  was  with  the 
human  species : 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  179 

"  Like  leaves  on  trees  the  race  of  man  is  found, 
Now  green  in  youth,  now  withering  on  the  ground." 

Upou  this  wooded  slope  Francois  and  Tom  Scarlet  had  lit 
their  camp-fire  at  the  close  of  the  first  day's  hunt.  It  had 
been  successful.  Several  turkeys  had  fallen  to  the  buckshot 
from  the  smooth-bore  of  the  young  Englishman,  and  a  small 
ball  from  the  heavy  rifle  of  the  Frenchman  had  brought  a 
fat  buck  down.  Their  kettle  had  sung  merrily  over  the  crack- 
ling fire,  the  venison  steaks  had  been  toasted,  the  evening  meal 
was  done.  The  sun  had  gone  down  over  the  hills  and  woods 
which  stretched  away  like  the  dark  billows  of  a  great  green 
sea  towards  the  west.  The  stars  came  out  in  the  clear  sky 
unveiled  by  cloud  or  mist.  Upon  the  still  air  of  the  open 
places  of  the  woods  the  scent  of  wild  flowers  and  fragrant 
shrubs  was  quickened  by  the  falling  dew.  A  drowsy  hum  of 
insects  was  heard  in  the  low  leaves  ;  the  owl  swept  by  on  noise- 
less wing  and  disappeared  again  like  a  spectre  among  the  sil- 
very trunks  of  the  trees.  Once  the  long  howl  of  the  wolf 
came  fi'om  the  rugged  ground  of  the  pass  above.  The  plain- 
tive cry  of  whip-poor-will  was  often  heard  from  the  depths 
of  the  forest,  as  in  warning  or  lament  over  the  sojourners  in 
the  w^aste. 

"  How  beautiful  the  night  is,  Francois !  How  grand  and 
solemn  these  great  w'oods  seem  in  which  we  are  alone — all,  all 
alone  !"  said  Tom  Scarlet.  "  It  was  worth  the  voyage  from 
England  and  the  journey  from  the  sea-coast  to  be  in  such  a 
scene.  It  seems  as  though  we,  of  all  men,  had  been  admitted 
by  nature  into  one  of  her  secret,  solitary  places  to  see  and  feel 
her  truths.  Franyois,  the  Druids  and  the  old  Scandinavian 
races  did  well  to  make  the  deep  oak  woods  their  solemn  tem- 
ples." 

"  It  may  be  so,"  replied  the  Frenchman,  "  but  you  may  find 
some  things  here  natural,  withal,  but  not  pleasant.  Throw  a 
blanket  over  your  shoulders,  and  then  draw  into  the  curl  of 
the  smoke  and  heat  of  the  fire  as  I  do.  The  calmness  and 
beauty  of  the  night  are  hardly  greater  than  its  danger  to  one 
unacclimated  like  you.  These  still,  beautiful  nights  in  the 
early  fall  sow  the  poison  which  ferments  in  the  blood  to  bring 
on  the  deadly  chill  and  the  consuming  fever." 

"  So  I  have  heard  you  say  before.    Yet  it  seems  hardly  pos- 


180  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

sible  that,  under  such  a  sky,  and  in  such  a  scene,  glorious  but 
now  \Yith  the  splendor  of  the  dying  day,  danger  can  lurk.  We 
are  upon  the  upland." 

"  And  therefore  more  exposed  to  the  breath  which  breeds 
the  fever  than  if  we  were  in  the  valley,  or  on  a  bit  of  dry 
ground  in  the  middle  of  a  swamp.  The  places  and  the  hours 
most  beautiful  are  here,  like  the  tiger  and  the  painted  snake, 
the  most  dangerous.  In  a  night  of  storm  you  would  run  no 
risk." 

"  But  for  all  that,  I  cannot  but  admire  the  beauty  of  the 
star-lit  sky,  as  I  see  it  from  beneath  the  arms  of  the  mighty 
oak  under  which  we  rest,  and  feel  the  influence  of  the  time 
and  scene." 

"  Tom,"  said  Frangois,  with  decision,  "  we  cannot  afford  to 
have  you  laid  up  with  the  bilious  fever,  or  even  with  the  ague, 
active  or  dumb  ;  therefore,  a  cup  of  whiskey,  well-flavored  with 
the  snake-root  and  the  bitter  bark  of  the  wauhu,  thence  to  bed 
upon  the  green  brush,  wa^apped  in  a  horseman's  blanket,  and 
with  your  feet  to  the  glowing  fire." 

"  The  dose  is  very  unpalatable,  Franyois,  but  I  owe  it  to 
Sassafras  and  you  to  be  careful,  so  I'll  take  it." 

The  still  night  wore  on.  Tired  by  the  exertions  of  the  day, 
satisfied  by  a  full  meal  of  venison,  and  all  alone,  as  they 
believed,  the  Englishman  and  the  Frenchman,  born  of  the 
civilization  of  the  west  of  Europe,  where  commerce,  the  sci- 
ences, and  the  arts  had  made  their  home,  while  the  owls  and 
foxes  inherited  the  temples  and  palaces  of  the  east,  slept  side 
by  side  in  the  land  of  the  stranger.  It  was  past  the  hour  of 
twelve,  the  dead  time  of  the  night.  The  fire  had  burned  low  ; 
there  was  no  longer  a  blaze  to  cast  its  cheerful  glare  abroad 
into  the  bushes.  The  slumber  of  the  Englishman  was  less 
profound,  and  through  the  restless  brain  there  were  visions 
swiftly  passing.  He  dreamed  of  home  and  some  vague  calamity  ; 
of  fire  on  shipboard — " 'twixt  the  green  sea  and  the  azur'd 
vault," — of  Indian  raids  and  midnight  massacres ;  he  heard 
the  war-whoop  ringing  through  the  arches  of  the  forest— saw 
the  wild  riders  rushing  like  a  whirlwind  over  the  prairie  to 
swoop  down  upon  their  prey.  At  leugth  he  awoke,  and  turned 
upon  his  back.  Looking  down  upon  him  as  he  lay  there  stood 
a  tall  Indian,  leaning  on  his  gun.     The  young  man  sprang  up 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  181 

with  a  cry  to  Fran9ois.  The  Indiau,  without  moviDg,  said  in 
broken  English  : 

"  What  fears  the  Golden  Bough  ?  The  Cheyenne  is  his 
friend.  He  looked  upon  the  faces  of  those  who  slept,  and  they 
were  safe." 

"  Cinnamon,"  said  FraD9ois,  "  as  a  friend  we  know  you  ;  but 
what  brings  you  here  to-night?" 

"  The  friend  of  Sassafras  from  the  great  river  and  the 
Golden  Bough  shall  hear,"  replied  the  Indian.  "  But  I  will 
call  my  companion." 

He  put  his  hand  to  his  mouth,  and  uttered  a  peculiar  cry. 
An  answer  was  heard  at  no  great  distance.  In  a  few  moments 
there  was  a  rustling  of  the  bushes,  and  the  young  Kiowa, 
painted  as  a  brave  upon  his  first  war-path,  came  into  the  circle 
of  light.     Francois  started,  and  said  : 

"  Has  the  chief  of  the  Cheyennes  made  ready  the  battle- 
axe,  and  prepared  to  loosen  the  arrow  from  the  string  of  the 
bone  bow  ?" 

"  No,"  replied  the  Indian,  pointing  to  the  youth  ;  "  but  the 
Young  Eagle  of  the  Kiowas,  who  live  among  the  lofty 
mountains,  whose  horses  drink  above  the  Great  Bend  and  of 
the  sweet  waters  of  the  great  river  of  the  South,  was  pursued 
by  Sassafras.  The  chief  of  the  Cheyennes  stayed  the  white 
man's  hand,  and  kept  the  Young  Eagle  from  his  grasp.  Was 
it  good,  Franyois  ?     Say,  O  !  Golden  Bough,  was  it  good  ?" 

"  It  was  ;  for  Cinnamon  is  wise  and  just,"  said  Francois. 
*'  Sassafras  is  his  friend.  They  struck  the  Sioux  together,  and 
they  mingled  with  the  dark  waters  of  the  river  the  blood  of 
the  Blackfeet  warriors." 

"  It  is  true,"  said  the  Indian.  "  In  the  morning  Francois 
and  the  Golden  Bough  shall  turn  upon  their  trail,  and  rejoin 
Sassafras.  The  Wolverine  and  the  Snake-Eyes  have  put  a 
cloud  between  Sassafras  and  the  Cheyennes.  With  the  Young 
Eagle  of  the  Kiowas  I  will  rest  by  your  fire  till  the  sun  has 
risen  over  the  great  river,  and  touched  the  hill-tops.  Is  Cin- 
namon welcome?" 

"  He  is,"  replied  Fran9ois,  while  Tom  Scarlet  took  the  hand 
of  the  chief.  The  Frenchman  added  to  Tom,  "  Mischief  is 
brewing  through  the  acts  of  Staples.  But  that  Sassafras, 
knowing  the  man,  should  have  listened  to  him,  passes  my  com- 
prehension." 


182  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  Ay,  and  Jagger  too !"  said  Tom  Scarlet.  "  The  chief  calls 
him  the  Snake-Eyes,  and  mentioned  him  also." 

"  If  Sassafras  has  allowed  them  to  bring  him  into  feud  with 
Cinnamon,  he  has  gone  crazy,"  said  Fran9ois.  "  But  I  can- 
not believe  it ;  I  will  not,  unless  he  says  so  himself." 

"  The  cloud  will  pass  away,"  said  the  proud  Cheyenne,  "  and 
the  dark  shadow  of  the  night  give  place  to  the  brightness  of 
the  ripening  day.  Let  the  Golden  Bough  tell  me  of  his  coun- 
try beyond  the  great  salt  water ;  of  the  home  of  his  fathers, 
and  of  the  fair  maiden  of  his  love.  Let  the  Indian  of  the 
wide  plains  and  lofty  mountains  hear  of  the  island  of  the  sea." 
With  this  he  filled  his  pipe  and  began  to  smoke,  while  the 
young  Kiowa,  who  had  hitherto  stood  rather  aloof,  advanced 
and  seated  himself  by  his  side. 

"  Tom,  do  you  amuse  the  chief!"  said  Francois.  "  He  will 
understand  almost  all  you  say.  He  has  come,  you  see,  to  stop 
the  breeding  of  bad  blood  between  himself  and  Sassafras.  We 
■will  all  start  back  soon  after  it  is  light.  While  you  interest 
the  chief,  I  will  talk  to  the  Young  Eagle  of  the  Kiowas." 

"  Franyois,"  said  Cinnamon,  "  the  eagle  understands  not  the 
cry  of  the  hawk,  or  the  call  of  the  swan  in  the  morning  mist, 
when  the  snow  lies  on  the  mountain  tops.  No  white  man,  and 
but  few  Indians  of  other  tribes,  have  learned  the  tongue  of 
the  Kiowas.  Those  you  have  heard  talked  the  language  of 
the  Comanches.  The  Young  Eagle  speaks  only  as  his  fathers 
spoke ;  his  ears  are  open  to  no  other  tongue." 

"  That's  true  enough,  as  far  as  it  goes,"  said  Francois.  "  I 
have  always  heard  that  mortal  man,  whether  red,  white  or 
black,  could  never  master  the  lingo  spoken  by  the  Kiowas  as 
their  own.     Go  on,  Tom." 

The  young  Englishman  was  always  ready  to  talk  of  his 
country  and  his  friends.  He  now  spoke  of  such  things  as  he 
believed  to  be  most  likely  to  interest  the  Indian  and  the  white 
hunter  who  heard  him.  The  little  island  in  the  stormy  seas, 
with  its  white  cliffs  gleaming  through  the  mist ;  the  beauties 
of  its  hills  and  dales,  its  woods  and  pleasant  homes  ;  its  vast 
population  and  inestimable  wealth ;  the  stately  buildings  of 
London  ;  the  hoary  edifices  of  Oxford,  solemn  and  grand  in 
their  venerable  antiquity ;  the  princely  country-houses  and 
parks,  Blenheim  and  Stowe.     And  then  he  told  of  the  enor- 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  183 

mous  commerce  and  possessions  of  vast  extent  all  over  the 
globe ;  of  England's  powerfid  fleets  ;  of  Y/aterloo,  and  the 
Irish  major,  a  friend  of  his  own,  who  had  lost  an  arm  and  won 
a  medal  there ;  of  Sir  Jerry  and  Lady  Snaffle,  and  her 
father,  the  fine  old  Admiral,  who  had  sailed  and  fought  all  his 
life ;  of  John  Bullfinch,  and  his  daughter  May,  and  all  the 
pleasant  walks  about  Hawkwell ;  of  his  own  home,  the  lone 
Grange,  near  the  wild  heath ;  of  the  green  lanes  and  shady 
nooks,  where  the  gypsies  camped,  and  he  had  often  lingered 
by  the  tents  to  play  with  the  young  children  and  laugh  with 
the  dark-eyed  maidens  just  come  from  the  copse  a-nutting. 
And  thus  his  tale  and  talk  went  on,  as  such  do  in  many  a  hut 
and  tent  in  distant  lands,  and  on  the  decks  of  many  ships  in 
far-off  waters,  until  the  young  Kiowa  rose  abruptly  and  broke 
up  the  narrative  by  throwing  a  pile  of  brush  on  the  fire. 

When  Sassafras  found  on  the  preceding  night  that  it  was 
Cinnamon  who  held  him  in  his  grasp,  and  prevented  him  from 
further  pursuit  of  the  Kiowa  youth,  he  was  surprised  and  a 
little  indignant.  When  the  chief  released  him  he  demanded 
an  explanation,  which  was  what  the  Indian  could  not  give. 
He  pointed  to  the  route  the  boy  had  taken,  and  said,  with  a 
low  voice : 

"  The  son  of  the  great  chief  of  the  Kiowas  is  the  guest  and 
friend  of  the  Cheyennes.  He  must  be  as  safe  as  at  his  father's 
side,  with  five  hundred  horsemen  of  his  tribe  around  him. 
Cinnamon  must  keep  him  from  harm  at  the  hand  of  Sassafras." 

"  Harm  !"  replied  the  latter  ;  "  who  wants  to  harm  him  ?  I 
think  he  should  be  made  to  mind  his  own  business,  that's  all. 
I  wish  he  was  safe  enough  with  his  father,  whoever  that  may 
be.  I  saw  the  great  chief  of  the  Kiowas,  when  he  watered 
his  horses  in  the  Red  river,  and  I  do  not  believe  this  sprig  of 
maple  to  be  his  son.  Cinnamon,  you  are  deceived  in  him ! 
The  boy  is  not  what  he  seems,  and  I  conceive  that  he  is  some 
sort  of  a  spy.  He  was  lurking  about  to  hear  what  passed 
between  Staples  and  me,  not  a  quarter  of  an  hour  ago." 

"  Cinnamon  is  not  deceived,"  replied  the  chief  "  I  will 
answer  for  this  boy.  My  life  is  the  pledge  for  his  truth.  Why 
should  you  think  he  was  there  to  listen  ?  The  young  Kiowa 
understands  no  English." 

"  And  I  say  this  boy  understands  English  as  well  as,  if  not 


184  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

better  than,  you  do.  He  was  hid  in  the  brush,  like  a  fox, 
while  I  was  talking  with  Staples,  and  it  was  not  until  the  old 
man  had  gone  that  he  tried  to  steal  in  silence  away." 

"  It  was  near  your  camp  !  Sassafras,  I  think  he  wanted  to 
look  upon  the  guest  of  my  friend.  He  likes  to  see  the  Golden 
Bough,  the  first  Englishman  he  ever  met,  except  the  Snake- 
Eyes,  whom  he  despises.     I  will  find  out." 

The  chief  went  up  the  hill.  Sassafras,  somewhat  angry,  and 
much  perplexed,  sought  his  tent  for  repose. 

It  was  night  again.  After  a  busy  day  spent  TN'ith  Jules, 
Black  Dick  and  the  favorite  gray  mare  Virginia,  the  border 
man  sat  by  the  fire  in  front  of  his  tent.  The  night  was  clear 
and  star-lit,  the  air  brisk  and  chilly.  The  half-breed  boy  from 
the  fort  was  at  the  shoulder  of  Sassafras,  as  the  latter  read  and 
re-read  a  brief  note  he  had  brought, 

"  You  say  Campau  gave  you  this,  Joe  ?  Did  he  send  any 
message  about  it,  or  about  anybody  ?" 

"  He  say,  '  Take  this  to  Sassafras.  Let  him  read  alone  and 
do  what  is  said.'  " 

"It  is  in  the  same  hand,  and  comes  from  the  same  person  as 
the  other  letter  you  brought  here,  Joe." 

"  Yes,  from  Campau — he  give  it  to  me." 

"  Joe,  is  the  young  Kiowa  with  Campau  ?"  said  Sassafras. 

"  He  is  not.  I  have  not  to-day  seen  him — nor  yesterday. 
I  like  not  the  Kiowa.  His  tribe  killed  my  fader  above  the 
Big  Bend,  because  he  was  a  white  man,  like  you." 

"  Well,  you'll  be  man  enough  to  get  even  some  of  these 
days,"  replied  Sassafras.  "  The  note  makes  a  good  sugges- 
tion— one  that  I  ought  to  have  thought  of  before,  whoever  the 
writer  may  be.  I  may  take  it,  and  better  the  instruction. 
Joe,  good-night.  Tell  no  one  you  were  here  or  that  anybody 
sent  a  letter  from  the  fort." 

The  boy  nodded  and  went  silently  off  into  the  darkness, 
with  the  footfall  of  a  cat,  and  an  eye  as  capable  of  seeing  at 
such  times  as  those  of  the  feline  tribes,  the  night  wanderers. 
By  the  large  but  fading  fire.  Sassafras  sat  smoking  and  mus- 
ing until  it  was  near  midnight.  He  was  about  to  rise 
and  enter  his  tent,  when  his  quick  ear  caught  the  tread  of 
horses  on  the  saddle  which  joined  the  two  hills,  and  formed 
the  background  of  the  valley  in  which  he  had  made  his  camp. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  185 

It  was  a  sound  he  never  mistook,  for  from  his  earliest  boy- 
hood the  step  of  the  horse  had  been  music  in  his  ears.  He 
seized  his  rifle,  withdrew  into  the  shade,  and  awaited  the  new- 
comers. As  they  approached,  he  found  from  the  voices  with 
which  they  conversed  in  low  and  guarded  tones,  that  the 
horsemen  were  Francois  and  Tom  Scarlet. 

"  Hail,  friends  !  why  so  soon  returned  ?  Are  there  no  deer 
in  the  woods  ?    Does  no  track  of  elk  point  for  the  Neosho  ?" 

"  There  were  deer,  there  were  turkeys — the  hunting  would 
have  been  good,"  replied  Fran9ois,  as  they  dismounted,  "  but. 
Sassafras,  we  came  back  at  the  bidding  of  Cinnamon,  who 
reached  us  last  night,  after  the  turning  of  the  time  well  to- 
wards the  coming  day." 

"  Yes,  we  were  sleej^ing  by  our  fire,"  said  Tom  Scarlet.  "  I 
had  dreamed  bad  dreams,  and  when  I  awoke  the  Cheyenne 
chief  was  looking  down  upon  me  as  I  lay." 

"Ay!"  exclaimed  Sassafras.  "But  that  I  know  the  chief, 
I  might  have  thought  such  dreams  would  have  been  no  worse 
than  the  awakening  by  brand  and  beneath  glittering  steel. 
Frangois,  how  was  it  that  you  let  an  Indian  come  upon  your 
camp  in  such  a  manner  that  he  might  have  lifted  your  scalps 
and  gone  again,  unheard,  unseen,  as  the  light  wind  of  the 
night  goeth  ?" 

"  I  knew  you  would  say  that,"  replied  the  Frenchman.  "  It 
is  provoking,  and  I  do  not  think  any  one  but  Cinnamon  could 
have  found  our  fire  and  come  upon  us  unheard.  I  am  a  light 
sleeper,  and  the  rustle  of  the  leaves  by  anything  other  than 
the  wind  will  awaken  me.  The  truth  is,  we  were  tired  by  our 
fast  journey  and  a  long  hunt  afterwards.  I  had  no  thought 
that  there  was  Indian  or  white  man  within  many  miles  of  us 
when  we  laid  down  to  rest." 

"And  Cinnamon  brought  you  back ?     For  what  purpose?" 

"  Speak,  Tom  ;  you  know  what  he  said,"  replied  Francois. 

"  I  will,"  said  Tom  Scarlet.  "  He  thought  we  ought  to 
return  here.  Sassafras,  to  remove  a  difference — a  sort  of  mis- 
understanding— which  has  arisen  between  you  and  him.  He 
says  the  Wolverine  and  the  Snake-Eyes  have  put  a  cloud 
before  the  eyes  of  his  friend,  and  evil  may  come  of  it." 

"  The  cloud  is  before  his  own  eyes,"  said  Sassafras.  "  I  too 
have  been  like  one  from  whom  things  were  hid  by  mist,  but  I 


186  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

now  see  the  light  through  the  breaks  and  rifts.  Look  here ! 
This  note,  received  by  me  a  short  time  ago — two  or  three 
hours — is  signed  by  the  name  of  Camj^au,  but  the  hand  is  that 
of  the  writer  who  sent  us  letters  from  New  Orleans.  This 
letter-writer  I  believe  to  be  the  boy  now  masquerading  here, 
as  if  it  was  Mardi-gras,  in  the  form  of  a  youug  Kiowa.  He 
raised  the  cloud  between  Cinnamon  and  me." 

"Sassafras,  it  cannot  be,"  said  Fran9ois.  "The  young 
Kiowa  came  with  Cinnamon  to  our  camp  last  night,  and  has 
but  now  returned.  We  left  them  behind  yonder  hill,  and  I 
doubt  whether  they  have  reached  their  own  camp  yet." 

"  Then  I  am  again  at  sea,"  replied  Sassafras.  "  I  thought  I 
had  it  all  clear  before  you  came  back,  although  I  was  told  the 
Kiowa  had  not  been  seen  at  the  fort  these  two  days.  I  am 
now  like  the  justice,  when  the  last  witness  had  involved  the 
case  in  contradiction  and  confusion.  '  It  was,'  said  his  honor, 
*  plain  enough  until  you  thrust  your  spoke  into  the  wheel  to 
bother  the  court  and  everybody  else.  I've  a  great  mind  to 
fine  and  commit  you  for  contempt.'  But  you  must  be  tired 
and  hungry.  Call  the  boys  to  look  to  your  horses.  Eat, 
drink  and  rest.  I  will  see  the  chief  myself  to-night.  It 
grows  late, 

"'But,  notwithstanding,  haste,  make  no  delay: 
We  may  complete  this  business  yet  ere  day.'" 

AVith  this  quotation  on  his  lips,  the  borderer  arose  and 
walked  away.  Tom  Scarlet  would  have  stopped  him,  but  the 
Frenchman  interposed  to  prevent,  saying  it  was  better  Sassa- 
fras and  the  chief  should  meet  speedily,  and  alone.  He 
ascended  the  hill  with  long  strides,  and  overlooking  from  the 
summit  the  fires  of  the  Indians  in  the  valley  below  he  saw  two 
horsemen  alight  near  the  centre  of  the  camp.  Putting  his 
forefingers  into  his  mouth,  Sassafras  whistled  so  loud  and 
shrill  that  the  Cheyennes  started  from  their  slumbers,  and  the 
echoes  awoke  among  the  neighboring  hills. 

"  He  comes !"  said  Cinnamon  to  the  Kiowa  youth.  "  It  is 
good.  Let  the  Young  Eagle  go  into  the  tent,  and  see  not  the 
white  warrior  of  the  great  river  and  the  chief  of  the  Chey- 
ennes until  tlie  cloud  between  them  has  passed  away !" 

The  youth  made  no  reply,  save  by  a  pressure  of  the  hand. 
He  moved  ofi'  to  another  tent,  and  entered  it,  before  Sassafras 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  187 

came  np  to  the  one  near  which  Cinnamon  stood.  When  these 
two  met  they  were  both  grave,  it  may  be  said  dignified,  for 
the  white  man  moved  and  spoke  with  conscious  courage  and 
integrity ;  while  the  Indian,  with  friendship  and  devotion 
unimpaired,  had  also  the  sense  of  power. 

"  Sassafras  is  welcome  to  the  camp  of  the  Cheyennes,"  said 
the  chief.  "  It  is  his  home — the  home  of  his  brother,  whose 
life  he  saved  when  the  hatchet  of  the  Sioux  was  swung." 

"  For  the  matter  of  that,  Cinnamon,  I  owe  my  life  twice 
over  to  you,"  replied  Sassafras.  "  But  for  your  timely  aid, 
when  my  gun  missed  fire  and  the  knife  fell  from  my  wounded 
hand,  my  bones  had  been  ground  in  the  den  of  the  great  griz- 
zly bear  in  the  Rocky  Mountains.  And  again,  but  for  you 
my  scalp  had  been  drying  long  ago  in  the  smoke  of  a  Black- 
foot  lodge,  t'other  side  of  Hell  Gate  Pass  and  the  British 
line." 

"  It's  enough!  We  are  friends !  We  are  brothers!"  replied 
Cinnamon.  "  I  have  said  it,  and  sworn  it  by  the  head  of  the 
Red  Horse.  The  cloud  has  passed  away.  Sassafras  has  seen 
the  Golden  Bough,  for  whose  afl?airs  the  Cheyennes  followed 
their  chief  from  the  Fork  of  the  Salmon.  His  enemies  are 
bad  men.  They  are  the  enemies  of  Cinnamon  and  his  young 
men,  and  of  Sassafras.  Why  should  I  not  kill  the  Wolverine 
and  the  Snake-Eyes  before  the  sun  pomes  up  from  the  hills 
near  the  great  river  to  look  again  upon  his  lands  in  the  golden 
w^est?     We  could  then  follow  in  his  course." 

It  was  not  the  first  time  Sassafras  had  heard  something  like 
this  proposition,  but  the  Indian  had  never  before  come  out  so 
« flat-footed,"  as  the  former  called  it.  The  truth  was,  the 
chief  was  getting  tired  of  inaction.  A  few  sharp  blows  would 
have  pleased  him  much,  and  he  could  then  have  mustered  his 
band  and  turned  their  horses'  heads  toward  the  West  with 
great  satisfaction.  Sassafras,  however,  could  not  accede  to  this 
method  of  settling  the  affair.  As  to  Staples  and  Jagger,  if  it 
became  necessary  to  do  so.  Sassafras  was  fully  resolved  to  "  deal 
with  them  in  steel,"  as  honest  Touchstone  hath  it ;  but  his 
present  aim  was  to  "  overrun  them  with  policy,  and  bandy 
with  them  in  treason." 

"Cinnamon,  it  will  not  do;  that  is,  not  at  present,"  said 
he.     "  The  work  goes  well.     In  four  or  five  days  we  shall  see 


188  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOX. 

the  end.  I  think  I  shall  win  our  -whole  venture.  If  Staples 
then  chooses  to  draw  and  fight,  he  may.  But  he  will  not  do 
so.  He  fears  you,  and  he  fears  me.  His  hope  was  to  raise  a 
misunderstanding  between  us.  That  is  futile.  Those  who 
might  venture  to  back  him  in  some  cases,  will  not  do  so  here. 
They  are  cowed  by  the  presence  of  your  band.  The  best  of 
them  would  wilt  at  the  whoop  of  the  wild  Cheyennes  when 
your  young  men  had  their  war-paint  on." 

The  eye  of  the  chief  glowed  proudly  in  the  red  light  of  the 
fire,  and  yet  he  seemed  to  be  a  little  disappointed  that  there  was 
no  immediate  chance  of  dealing  with  the  AYolverine  and  the 
Snake-Eyes,  after  his  own  summary  plan. 

*'  Sassafras  loves  the  Golden  Bough  as  one  of  his  own  blood," 
said  he,  after  a  pause. 

"  You  may  well  think  so,  yet  he  is  no  kin  to  me,  and  five 
months  ago  I  had  not  seen  him.  But  we  met.  He  was  a 
stranger,  in  a  strange  land ;  come  over  the  great  salt  waters 
which  are  wider  than  all  the  plains.  He  was  open-hearted 
and  free-spoken.  Wrong  had  been  done  him  in  his  own  coun- 
try. The  Golden  Bough  had  been  rifled  and  robbed  of  fair 
fruit  by  the  Snake-Eyes,  and  had  followed  him  to  this  land. 
To  prevent  more  wrong  and  utter  failure,  I  took  upon  myself 
the  guiding  of  this  business,  and  sent  to  you  to  meet  us  here." 

"  It  is  good,"  said  the  .Indian. 

"  It  is.  You  came,  the  best  and  boldest  of  the  chiefs  who 
hunt  upon  the  plains  between  the  great  river  and  the  lofty 
mountains  of  the  Rocky  range." 

"  I  say  that  it  is  good,"  replied  Cinnamon.  "  When  the 
Wolverine  and  the  Snake-Eyes  are  beaten,  and  the  Golden 
Bough  goes  with  his  own  again  to  the  great  salt  water,  let 
Sassafras  ride  with  me  and  ray  young  men  towards  the  West. 
The  buffalo  in  autumn  are  plenty  on  my  plains  as  the  leaves 
on  the  trees.  The  elk  of  my  hills  are  big  and  fat ;  their  antlers 
are  tall.  The  evening  sky  is  very  red  when  the  sun  goes  over 
the  tops  of  the  great  mountains.  When  the  snow  lies  upon 
the  plains  there  is  grass  for  our  horses  in  the  parks.  My  tent 
is  very  warm  in  the  frosty  days  of  the  winter.  Let  my  friend 
send  his  Frenchmen  and  his  black  men  to  Missouri  with  the 
Golden  Bough,  and  ride  with  me  to  my  home  in  the  West." 

"  Cinnamon,  I  should  like  it  of  all  things,  and  next  year  I 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK.  189 

will  try  to  arrange  my  affairs  so  that  I  can  spend  the  winter 
with  you,"  replied  Sassafras.  "  We  will  hunt  the  grizzly  bears 
again,  just  before  they  retire  to  their  inaccessible  holds  to  lie 
and  sleep  through  the  cold  weather." 

"  My  friend  shall  be  welcome  as  the  melting  of  the  snows  in 
spring,  when  the  sun  shines  warm  and  large,"  said  the  Indian. 

"  Then  here  good-night.  We  meet  to-morrow,"  said  Sassa- 
fras, as  he  left  the  chief. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

"  Go,  make  thyself  like  a  nymph  o'  the  sea;  be  subject 
To  no  sight  but  mine  and  thine." 

THE  plans  of  Sassafras  had  been  changed  in  reference  to 
the  race  between  the  White  Horse  and  the  mare  Virginia 
by  the  note  he  received  at  night  from  the  fort,  and  by  the  un- 
expected but  opportune  return  of  Tom  Scarlet  and  rran5ois. 
Although  it  was  very  late  when  he  returned  from  the  Indian 
camp,  he  was  up  soon  after  break  of  day,  and  arousing  Tom 
Scarlet  and  Frau9ois,  he  called  them  to  a  council  in  his  tent. 
'  "  It  is,"  said  he,  "  a  good  thing  that  you  have  returned,  for 
though  there  was  no  need  of  any  pacificators  between  Cinna- 
mon and  me,  there  will  be  use  for  Tom  that  I  did  not  think 
of.  You  must,  however,  be  still  unknown  to  Jagger,  Staples, 
and  all  their  set." 

"  Then  your  interview  with  the  chief  was  satisfactory  to  you 
both !"  said  Tom  Scarlet. 

"  Entirely  so  ;  in  fact,  there  has  been  no  trouble  between 
the  chief  and  me,  except  a  little  difference  of  opinion  as  to  that 
boy.  We  have  been  friends  so  long,  and  stood  together  in 
such  dangers  and  difficulties,  that  no  little  matter  would  bring 
us  to  a  quarrel,  or  even  to  a  coolness." 

"  Did  you  see  the  Kiowa  last  night?"  said  Francois. 

"  Xo.  Tell  me,  what  did  he  say  or  do — how  did  he  look 
and  act  when  at  your  camp  ?" 

"  He  said  nothing.  He  talks  neither  English  nor  Cheyenne, 
you  know,"  replied  Tom  Scarlet. 

''  I  know  it  is  so  said,  but  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it,"  said 
Sassafras.     "  How  did  he  look  and  act  ?" 


190  TEE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON, 

"  He  looked  the  same  as  before,  but  Fran9ois  says  he  was  in 
Tvar-paint." 

"  War-paint !  What  foolery  is  this  ?  I  know  that  Cinna 
mon  isn't  going  to  let  him  make  war  with  me.  I've  a  good 
mind  to  arm  young  Joe,  whose  father  was  killed  by  the  Kiowas 
above  the  Great  Bend,  and  let  these  two  cockerells  fight  it 
out !" 

"  It  would  be  dangerous,"  said  Franyois. 

"  It  would,"  replied  Sassafras.  "  If  blood  were  once  drawn 
here,  there  is  no  knowing  where  the  slaughter  might  stop. 
Cinnamon  himself  proposed  the  killing  of  Staples  and  Jagger 
last  night.  But  why  was  the  boy  taken  to  your  camp  at  all, 
if  he  cannot  understand  what  Cinnamon  or  anybody  else  says, 
and  nobody  can  understand  him  ?" 

"  We  don't  know,"  replied  Tom  Scarlet.  "  For  my  part,  I 
rather  like  the  lad,  and  wish  he  could  understand  what  I  might 
say  to  him.  I  have  seen  a  smile  under  his  paint  and  a  grati- 
fied look  in  his  eye  when  I  have  made  a  kindly  sign  to  him. 
Last  night,  when  I  was  talking  about  England,  and  my  part 
of  the  country,  and  friends  at  home,  he  sat  by  the  side  of  Cin- 
namon, muffled  up  in  his  blanket.  But  he  was  not  asleep,  for  I 
could  see  his  eyes  at  times  glowing  like  live  coals  as  I  told  my 
tale." 

"Which  he  couldn't  understand!  Bah!"  said  Sassafras. 
"  But  no  more  of  him.  Cinnamon  says  he's  honest,  and  that's 
enough  for  the  present  As  he  has  left  the  fort  for  the  camp, 
you  may  enjoy  more  of  his  acquaintance,  and  commune  to- 
gether as  the  deaf  and  dumb  do ;  for  you  must  abide  with  Cin- 
namon until  the  race  comes  off.  You  have  heard  all  about  it 
from  the  chief?" 

"  Yes ;  that  it  is  the  mare  against  the  White  Horse,  the 
winner  to  have  the  two  horses  as  well  as  the  stakes.  Sassa- 
fras, I  fear  you  have  overmatched  her.  You  don't  know  how 
good  the  horse  is." 

"  And  you  don't  know  how  good  the  mare  is,  especially  in 
a  second  or  third  heat.  Why,  Tom,  she'll  win  it  easy.  I  don't 
see  how  she  can  lose  it,  in  the  condition  the  horse  will  be. 
When  it  is  over,  as  your  hunt  has  been  cut  short  with  Fran- 
9ois,  I'll  take  you  on  a  hunt  myself;  and  if  we  do  not  find 
elk  on  this  side  of  the  Neosho,  we  will  cross  to  the  left  bank. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK.  191 

You  shall  have  a  set  of  antlers  for  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle's  hall  such 
as  was  hardly  ever  seen  in  England,  and  another  for  the  parlor 
of  John  Bullfinch,  that  your  lady-love  may  see  the  game  \ve 
sometimes  follow  in  the  West.  Now  to  our  immediate  busi- 
ness.    I  want  you  to  answer  me  a  few  questions." 

"  As  many  as  you  please,"  said  Tom. 

"  This  Jagger  gives  out  that  he  was  a  great  tiirfman  in  Eng- 
land.    Is  that  so  ?" 

"  Of  course  not.  He  laid  a  little  money,  as  many  men  do 
who  can  hardly  tell  a  race-horse  from  a  circus  nag,  and  indeed 
think  the  latter  the  better  of  the  two.  He  was  what  we  call  *  a 
leg ;'  that  is,  a  rogue  who  cheats  everybody  he  can,  and  is  him- 
self the  fool  and  dupe  of  touts." 

"  Then  he  never  won  the  Derby,  running  his  horse  under 
another  man's  name  ;  never  challenged  for  the  Whip  with  this 
White  Horse,  and  had  it  resigned  to  him  by  the  Duke  of 
Grafton,  to  the  imminent  danger  of  the  life  of  the  Duchess, 
through  sheer  vexation  ?" 

« Derby !     Whip  !     Does  the  villain  say  that?" 

"  Ay,  does  he !  and  a  great  deal  more.  For  instance,  he 
was  sorry  for  the  Duchess,  a  family  connection  of  his  own, 
and  brought  the  White  Horse  from  England  as  a  delicate  way 
of  letting  the  Duke  get  possession  of  the  Whip  again.  Now, 
tell  us  what  this  Jagger  really  is." 

«  The  biggest  liar  in  all  this  land,  for  one  thing,"  replied 
Tom.  "  He  was  no  horseman  at  home,  and  of  no  more  use  to 
the  turf  than  a  rat  is  to  a  granary." 

"  Then  he  is  not  even  a  good  rider — I  mean  in  a  race." 


He  ride  a  race — the  humbu 


"  Just  what  I  thought,  Tom  ;  but  he  means  to  ride  the  White 
Horse  in  this  match." 

"  I  wish  it  was  a  steeple-chase,  so  that  he  would  have  a  fine 
chance  to  break  his  neck." 

"  That  might  save  the  hangman  some  trouble  one  of  these 
days,"  said  Sassafras,  "  unless  he  should  hear  the  war-whoop 
of  the  Cheyennes  some  fine  night,  and  get  frightened  to  death 
while  his  neck  is  whole.  Did  he  ever  ride  a  race  in  England 
of  any  sort  ?" 

"  Certainly  not !  No  trainer  would  let  such  a  muff  get  on  a 
race-horse,  eVen  if  it  was  but  to  run  for -a  saddle  and  bridle  en 


192  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

some  common  at  a  country  fair.  He  may  have  Keen  in  the 
hunting-field  a  few  times,  for  all  sorts  of  people  go  out  with 
the  hounds.  But  I'll  bet  a  hundred  to  ten  that  May  Bullfinch 
would  '  pound  '  him  in  ten  minutes  over  our  grass  lands  and 
stiff  fences.  He  is  an  arrant  imposter^that  sort  of  bragging, 
vaporing  fellow  who  disgraces  Old  England  in  foreign  lands." 

"  In  the  minds  of  the  inconsiderate  only,"  said  Sassafras ; 
"  for  reasonable  men  do  not  impute  the  follies  of  a  blockhead 
and  the  lies  of  a  false  knave  to  his  country,  whatever  his 
country  may  be.  I  have  heard  some  Americans  go  on  in  the 
West  Indies  in  such  a  way  that  I  was  almost  mad  enough  to 
pistol  'em,  or  at  least  to  knock  'em  in  the  head  and  silence 
'em  for  a  while;  but  I  never  thought  the  worse  of  my  country, 
or  my  countrymen,  on  account  of  the  braying  of  such  native 
jackasses  as  these.  Therefore  do  not  mind  Jagger.  He  may 
disgrace  himself — England  never.  How  did  the  man  get 
hold  of  such  a  stallion  as  the  White  Horse  ?" 

"  By  some  transaction  with  a  party  who  was  hard  up,  and 
about  to  sponge  out  accounts  by  going  through  the  insolvent 
debtors'  court.  I  don't  believe  he  was  ever  on  his  back  in 
England.  He  can't  ride  a  bit.  Let  me  ride  the  mare.  Sassa- 
fras. It'll  be  the  richest  go  that  ever  was  for  me  to  ride  Vir- 
ginia ;  for  I'll  manage  it  so  that  the  White  Horse  shall  run 
away  with  Jagger,  and  perhaps  bolt  the  course  and  get  dis- 
tanced." 

"  What's  your  weight  ?" 

"I  can  ride  ten  stone  five  with  my  saddle,  to-day,  just  as  I 
stand." 

"  Very  well !  You  must  toddle  up  and  down  the  hill  at  the 
back  of  Cinnamon's  camp  and  get  that  five  pounds  off.  The 
mare  carried  a  hundred  and  thirty  pounds  yesterday  in  her 
work  and  went  like  a  bird.  Nobody  knows  what  she  had  up 
but  me  and  Black  Dick  besides  yourselves,  and  of  course 
nobody  is  to  know.  Dick  was  cased  in  lead,  a  Black  Knight 
in  armor.  The  mare,  though  alone,  was  very  free — went 
right  up  to  the  bit.  In  fact  she  was  almost  too  free,  consider- 
ing that  she  is  a  slack  goer  when  there  is  nothing  with  her.  I 
watch  changes  of  that  sort.  When  a  horse  has  not  done  well, 
and  there  is  an  alteration  in  his  way  of  going,  I  like  it.  It 
indicates  improvement.     But  when  a  known  good  one,  that  is 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON,  193 

in  fair  condition,  changes  the  style  of  running,  I  have  my 
doubts.  It  may  indicate  an  improvement,  but  it  may  be  a 
sign  of  the  reverse.  However,  the  mare  always  went  more 
freely  after  she  had  a  race  in  her ;  and  she  knows  as  w^ell  as  I 
do  that  there  is  another  soon  to  come  off." 

"  I'll  see  her  gallop  to-morrow,"  said  Tom  Scarlet. 

"  You  may,  but  it  must  be  from  a  tree-top,"  replied  Sassa- 
fras. "  If  Jagger  should  see  you  now  and  recognise  you,  all 
our  plans  might  fail.  It  is  true  the  match  is  play  or  pay,  but 
we  will  avoid  all  dispute,  or  wrangle,  until  it  is  run.  To  that 
end  I  shall  let  them  believe  that  they  have  got  the  best  of  it, 
and  avoid  showing  my  own  hand  until  the  start.  You  see, 
the  people  at  the  fort  have  behaved  very  ^vell,  and  the  man- 
ager and  Campau  are  my  friends.  A  row  and  a  fight  would 
be  against  their  interests ;  and,  as  I  said  before,  there  is  no 
knowing  how  red  the  tomahawks  of  the  Cheyennes  would 
be  before  it  ended,  if  it  once  began.  Therefore,  you  must  go 
to  the  Indian  camp  within  an  hour,  and  stay  there  as  an  In- 
dian until  I  send  for  you." 

"  I  can  see  no  need  for  it ;  I  can  keep  close  here,  and  then 
you  know  I  can  look  over  the  mare  every  time  she  gallops.  I 
have  had  experience,  and  am  a  fair  judge  of  condition  as 
work  goes  on." 

"I  am  sure  you  are;  but  nevertheless  it  is  necessary  that 
you  leave  the  mare  to  me,  and  just  reduce  your  weight  five 
pounds,"  said  Sassafras.  "  I  have  a  presentiment  that  Staples 
or  Jagger,  perhaps  both,  will  pay  me  a  visit  to-morrow ;  be- 
sides which,  that  fellow  Keeps  lurks  and  pries  about  here  as 
if  he  suspected  something.  Now,  he  will  take  good  care  not 
to  go  near  Cinnamon's  camp ;  so  you  must  become  an  Indian." 

"  That  is  not  possible.  I  can  be  no  Indian,  even  in  outward 
appearance.  But  I  have  no  objection  to  stay  with  the  chief 
if  he  will  give  me  his  hospitality.  I  consider  disguise  unne- 
cessary." 

"  And  I  say  it  is  altogether  necessary  to  the  success  of  my 
plans,  and  a  proper  precaution.  I  shall  want  you  here  just 
before  the  race,  and  in  the  guise  and  paint  of  an  Indian,  you 
can  visit  the  fort  as  well  with  Cinnamon.  Campau  knows 
something  of  the  scheme,  and  so  does  Pierre  Langlois.  Come, 
Fran9ois,  get  you  paints  and  dyes  and  razor.  Ked  enough  he 
13 


194  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

is  already,  but  not  of  the  real  coppery  tinge  of  the  Indians  of 
the  plains  and  mountains.  Scarlet  by  name,  scarlet  by  nature ! 
Perhaps  descended  from  Robin  Hood's  bold  bowman.  Will  of 
Sherwood  Forest.  An  ancestor  to  be  proud  of!  Tom,  I  had 
as  lieve  be  descended  from  one  of  Robin's  merry  men  as  '  fetch 
my  life  and  being  from  men  of  royal  siege.'  Go  to  work, 
Frangois.  Off  with  those  whiskers.  Get  your  walnut  dye 
for  his  hands  and  arms,  neck  and  face,  and  your  pigment  for 
his  hair.  You  can  make  him  an  Indian  good  enough  for  our 
use  in  half  an  hour." 

"  I  don't  fancy  this  notion,"  said  Tom.  "  I  would  much 
rather  go  as  I  am.  Besides,  I  shall  never  be  able  to  impose 
upon  the  Indians,  and  they  may  take  it  ill.  I  may  find  it 
easier  to  go  into  their  camp  in  disguise,  than  to  get  out  again. 
The  chief  himself  sometimes  has  the  look  of  a  bloodhound 
asleep  with  his  eyes  half  open,  and  then  again  there  shoot 
such  lightning  glances  from  under  his  brows,  that  they  almost 
seem  to  scorch  what  they  fall  upon.  He  is  a  good  man,  no 
doubt,  but  his  virtues  are  those  of  a  savage.  You  say  he  pro- 
posed to  kill  Staples  and  Jagger  last  night,  as  a  ready,  simple, 
natural  way  of  settling  affairs  ?" 

"  So  he  did  !     What  then  ?" 

"  He  has  not  been  consulted  in  this  matter,  and  it  may  offend 
him." 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind.  Your  appearance  in  the  paint  of 
the  tribe  will  please  the  chief  and  all  his  band  instead  of  of- 
fending them.  Man  alive !  you  don't  know  the  Indians.  They 
all  like  the  Golden  Bough,  and  will  take  it  as  a  compliment. 
Besides,  it  will  please  the  young  Kiowa  from  the  Southwest, 
and  most  likely  get  you  an  invitation  to  visit  his  father  in  the 
mountains.  That's  a  smart  boy,  Kiowa  or  no  Kiowa,  and  I'll 
bet  a  trifle  he  don't  go  from  here  until  we  are  better  ac- 
quainted." 

Fran9ois  confirmed  what  Sassafras  said  in  regard  to  the  re- 
ception by  the  Cheyennes,  and  then  Tom  Scarlet  put  on  leggings 
and  moccasins  and  a  hunting-shirt,  and  suffered  the  French- 
man to  do  as  he  would.  Francois  was  an  expert  artist.  He 
had  taste  and  skill,  and  in  half  an  hour  he  had  effected  such 
a  change  in  the  appearance  of  the  young  Englishman  that 
there  was  no  i)robability  of  his  recognition  by  Jagger  or  any 
one  else  who  might  meet  him  by  accident,     AVhile  the  meta- 


THE  WmrE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  195 

morphosis  was  in  progress,  Sassafras  sat  Id  front  of  Tom  and 
gave  Fraugois  such  hints  and  advice  as  a  connoisseur  may  offer 
to  a  painter  when  he  is  putting  the  last  finishing  touches  to  a 
picture.  The  transformation  completed,  Sassafras  rose  and 
surveyed  his  plumed  and  painted  friend  with  much  care  and 
gravity. 

"  I  believe  it  will  do,"  said  he.  "  The  skin  is  a  leetle  too 
dark,  to  my  mind,  and  the  hair  a  leetle  too  shiny,  but  there 
are  worse-looking  Indians  about  here  by  a  mighty  sight.  The 
paint  is  beautiful !  beautiful !  The  Cheyennes  will  be  delighted. 
On  the  whole,  Tom  makes  a  good  Indian  of  the  Western 
plains,  having  the  proper  bow  in  the  legs,  the  result  of  being 
a  fine  horseman.  Taken  altogether,  the  get-up  is  like  the 
acting  of  the  fellows  who  play  the  fool  in  the  circusses  which 
travel  the  States — too  natural.  But  it  will  do.  Come  along 
now,  and  we  wi]l  breakfast  with  the  chief  and  his  young  friend 
from  the  Southwest." 

When  they  reached  the  Cheyenne  camp,  it  was  easily  per- 
ceived that  the  Indians  knew  who  the  man  in  the  paint  and 
feathers  of  their  tribe  was.  This  partly  arose  from  his  arrival 
in  company  with  Sassafras  and  Franyois.  The  red  men  seemed 
pleased,  and  a  little  amused.  Tom  Scarlet  immediately  de- 
clared that  the  disguise  was  futile,  as  everybody  seemed  to  know 
him. 

"  Every  Cheyenne,  you  mean,"  said  Sassafras,  "  which  is 
natural.  They  know  you  are  not  one  of  themselves  well  enough  ; 
but  neither  Jagger  nor  any  other  stranger  would  easily  dis- 
cover that  fact.  They  see  you  with  us,  too,  and  that  accounts 
for  their  actually  and  readily  identifying  you." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  tent  of  the  chief.  Cin- 
namon came  out,  and  welcomed  them,  taking  Tom  Scarlet  by 
the  hand,  and  laying  his  palm  upon  his  shoulder.  The  young 
Kiowa  avoided  them,  going  off  as  they  came  up,  with  his  head 
down,  towards  a  clump  of  bushes  which  was  near  at  hand. 
Tom  Scarlet  thought  the  youth  was  shy,  and  had  therefore 
gone  away  to  evade  a  meeting  with  a  strange  Indian,  or  that 
he  had  perhaps  left  the  tent  through  dislike  of  Sassafras. 
The  latter  had  no  such  idea.  He  looked  keenly  at  the  youth 
as  he  walked  away,  and  was  convinced  that  he  was  merely 
seeking  a  place  in  v.hich  to  give  vent  to  laughter  he  was  almost 
unable  to  suppress-  wht-re  he  was. 


196  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

" Now,  whether  he  kill  Cassio, 

Or  Cassio  him,  or  each  do  kill  the  other, 
Every  way  makes  my  gain." 

MORNING  came  again,  lighting  up  the  woods  and  shedding 
a  golden  lustre  in  the  dells  and  nooks  which  oj^ened  to- 
wards the  east.  Sassafras  was  early  afoot,  meditating  an  import- 
ant move  in  the  game  of  strategy  he  had  begun  to  play  against 
Staples  and  Jagger.  He  called  for  Black  Dick,  and  taking  him 
apart  from  the  other  men,  gave  him  such  directions,  in  a  few  brief, 
emphatic  sentences,  as  raised  the  kinks  upon  the  darkey's  bul- 
let head,  and  caused  his  one  eye  to  assume  dimensions  ap- 
proaching that  of  a  Cyclops,  while  the  white  of  it,  in  strong 
contrast  with  the  sooty-black  hue  of  his  face,  indicated  alarm, 
or  enterprise  of  pith  and  moment.  The  other  negroes  were 
all  ready  for  duty,  and  leaving  Fran9ois  and  Jules  in  charge 
of  the  camp.  Sassafras  proceeded  with  the  gray  mare  and  her 
sable  train  to  the  race-course.  She  was  prepared  for  her  work, 
and  with  a  countenance  of  more  than  usual  gravity,  a  face 
W'hich  might  have  been  likened  to  one  carved  upon  a  block 
of  ebony.  Black  Dick  mounted.  After  her  canter,  she  went 
a  mile  and  a  half  at  three-quarter  speed.  This  \Yas  done  in 
the  most  satisfactory  manner;  and  then  she  was  sent  a  rattling 
two-mile  gallop  at  nearly  her  best  rate. 

A  group  of  men  stood  in  front  of  the  fort  while  all  this  was 
going  on.  They  took  great  interest  in  the  proceedings.  Sorne 
remarked  that  Sassafrass  worked  his  horses  very  hard,  and 
took  almost  too  much  out  of  them  before  the  race.  The  gen- 
eral verdict,  however,  was  to  the  effect  that  the  mare  was  very 
fit,  and  never  went  better.  But  when  she  was  pulled  up  on 
the  back-stretch  of  the  course,  where  Sassafras  and  her  attend- 
ants were  standing,  it  was  plain  that  something  out  of  the 
ordinary  course  had  occurred.  There  was  a  running  to  and 
fro  by  the  negroes.  The  mare's  saddle  was  hastily  taken  off, 
and  waving  back  the  man  who  proffered  the  bucket  and  sponge 
to  him.  Sassafras  went  upon  his  knee  and  passed  his  hand  sev- 


TUE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  197 

eral  times  down  over  the  back  tendon  of  her  off  fore  leg. 
The  spectators  at  the  fort  saw  all  this  plainly  enough ;  but 
when  she  was  blanketed  and  led  away  towards  her  owner's 
camp  by  Black  Dick,  they  were  unable  to  see  whether  she  was 
lame,  as  Sassafras  and  the  negroes  followed  her  in  close  array. 
Ominous  nods  and  whispers  were,  however,  exchanged  by  these 
on-lookers,    those  who  had  previously  mentioned  the   hard- 
working system  followed  by  Sassafras  saying  to  the  others : 
"  I  told  you  so  !"     Before  the  mare  had  been  gone  from  the 
course  ten  minutes  Staples  had  been  informed  of  what  had  hap- 
pened, with  the  usual  embellishments  and  exaggerations,  and 
had  sent  for  Keeps.     That  worthy  was  not  far  off.     He  and 
the  captain  had  a  consultation,  in  which  the  latter  delivered 
certain  instructions  to  his  man.     In  pursuance  of  these  the 
latter  set  out  for  the  camp  of  Sassafras  by  a  roundabout  route, 
taking  care  to  avoid  the  tents  of  the  Cheyennes  and  the  woods 
in  which  they  were  strolling  and  shooting  at  marks.    Arrived 
near  the  camp  of  the  Western  man,  Keeps  lurked  about,  con- 
cealed by  the  bushes,  for  some  time,  but  at  last  got  speech 
with  one  of  the  negroes.     The  latter  was  a  stout  fellow,  with  a 
wooden  look  and  a  vacant  stare.   He  was  commonly  regarded  as 
a  very  thick-headed  darkey,  with  little  or  none  of  the  cunning 
and  acuteness  so  often  possessed  by  his  race  and  hidden  under 
a  stolid  exterior.    From  this  apparently  dull  and  obtuse  negro 
Keeps  extracted  the  intelligence,  given  with  much  circumlo- 
cution and  digression,  that  the  mare  had  pulled  up  lame  at 
the  end  of  her  two-mile  gallop,  and  that  Sassafras,  Fran§ois 
and  Black  Dick  were  fomenting  her  off  fore  leg.     On  receipt 
of  this  important  piece  of  news  the  captain's  henchman  swore 
an  oath  or  two  of  some  force,  whether  expressive  of  satisfac- 
tion or  of  disappointment  and  regret  was  uncertain,  for  Keeps 
was  accustomed  to  mark  any  and   every  sentiment  in  this 
manner.     Leaving  the  dull  darkey  without  ceremony,  he  set 
off  at  his  best  rate  to  communicate  with  his  employer.     The 
venerable  captain,  having  heard  Keeps  to  the  end,  seemed  to 
be  involved  in  doubt  and  unprepared  to  come  to  any  decision 
in  this  crisis.     He  wanted  time  for  consideration,  and  perhaps 
for  the  gathering  of  more  facts  touching  the  nature  and  extent 
of  the  injury  the  mare  had  suffered. 

**  Keeps,"  said  he,  "  say  nothing  of  this  at  present.     There 


198  'l^'i^E  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

are  plenty  of  people  to  do  the  talking,  Keeps — too  many ;  for 
the  world  grows  more  given  to  gabbiiug  and  spouting  every 
day.  You  and  I  are  men  of  action.  You  had  better  not 
mention  what  you  and  I  know  to  Mr.  Grosvernor.  He  is  now 
upon  the  course  with  his  White  Horse,  and  will  hear  nothing 
but  what  you  can  represent  as  a  vague  rumor,  most  likely 
started  by  Sassafras  himself  to  get  long  odds.  If  he  should 
once  find  that  the  mare  is  broke  down,  the  Englishman  will 
get  so  uncommon  bumptious  that  we  shall  be  able  to  do 
nothing  with  him — nothing  at  all." 

The  worthy  captain  then  took  Keeps  into  his  shanty,  and 
produced  a  large  demijohn  of  old  Bourbon  whiskey,  which 
liaving  been  taken  from  the  beautiful  blue-grass  lands  of 
Kentucky,  down  the  Ohio  and  the  Mississippi  to  New  Orleans, 
and  up  again  to  the  Arkansas,  and  along  that  stream,  had 
acquired  such  excellence  and  flavor  that  it  was  kept  for  its 
owner's  private  use  and  entertainment.  Of  this  golden  and 
oily  but  potent  spirit  the  captain  treated  his  henchman  to  a 
cup  before  he  dismissed  him.  When  Keeps  was  gone,  the 
veteran  sat  upon  a  barrel,  in  the  midst  of  old  horse-clothes, 
saddles,  bridles,  rusty  bits,  and  empty  kegs,  smelling  strongly 
of  the  distilled  juice  of  Indian  corn,  and  pondered  over  the 
change  which  had  suddenly  come  about  in  the  state  of  afiairs. 
At  first  he  was  cheerful,  not  to  say  gay.  Pouring  out  a  large 
dram,  he  quaffed  it  with  a  relish,  and  with  a  sense  of  congrat- 
ulation on  the  fact  that  he  had  carefully  avoided  committing 
himself  to  a  partnership  with  Sassafras  in  the  pending  match. 
"  I  look  before  1  leap,"  said  he.  "  Sassafras,  and  the  fools 
and  blackguards  of  that  age,  may  go  it  with  a  rush — the  whole 
hog,  as  they  say  at  Cincinnati — but  none  of  that  for  the  old 
man !" 


But  in  the  midst  of  his  satisfaction  over  the  fact  that  he  was 
not  "  in"  with  Sassafras,  he  recollected  that  he  was  not  "  in" 
with  Jagger  either.  As  things  were  likely  to  turn  out  this 
was  a  manifest  matter  of  regret ;  and  besides,  the  domineering, 
boasting  spirit  of  the  latter  was  sure  to  be  augmented  and 
inflamed  if  his  horse  beat  the  mare  from  whom  the  captain's 
best  racer  had  lately  suffered  defeat.  Of  late  these  worthies 
had  begun  to  discuss  politics,  and  had  as  often  quarrelled  over 
the  institutions  of  their  respective  countries.     The  captain  was 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  199 

all  for  republican  goverDment,  and  very  dogmatic  m  his  asser- 
tions, which  he  called  his  reasons.  Jagger  was  voluble  in 
praise  of  monarchical  institutions.  He  took  under  his  pro- 
tection the  king,  the  aristocracy,  and  the  church,  especially 
the  last,  and  the  bishops,  one  of  whom,  he  said,  was  his  brother- 
in-law.  The  captain  did  not  like  bishops,  had  "  no  use  for 
'em,"  and 'his  opinion  of  brothers-in-law  was  not  high,  but  the 
reverse.  So  the  captain  saw  the  almost  absolute  necessity  of 
getting  "  in"  with  Jagger ;  but  with  all  his  fertility  of  inven- 
tion and  unscrupulousuess  he  was  at  fault  as  to  the  means. 
If  he  could  hit  upon  a  plan  whereby  Sassafras  and  Jagger 
might  both  be  brought  to  grief  he  would  be  happy.  The 
former  was  a  villain,  bold  and  desperate,  who  ought  to  be 
undone.  The  latter  was  a  minion  of  the  crown,  w^ho  ought  to 
be  despoiled,  and  his  money  employed  by  a  good  republican 
for  the  public  benefit.  But  no  expedient,  even  for  the  bringing 
about  of  a  partnership  with  Jagger,  presented  itself  just  then 
to  the  captain's  mind,  and  he  felt  like  one  about  to  be  defrauded 
of  his  rights  and  deprived  of  his  substance.  Should  such 
things  be  ?  The  venerable  captain  thought  not,  if  he  could 
help  it.  The  mare  was  lame !  The  fate  of  the  horse  was  in 
his  own  hands,  for  he  could  enter  his  stable  at  any  moment. 
Yet  he  was  about  to  lose  the  bountiful  harvest  springing  from 
seed  scattered  by  two  fools  by  the  way,  for  want  of  a  device 
by  which  to  reap  and  bind  it.  The  captain  felt  that  he  was 
an  injured  man,  and  w^as  highly  disgusted  with  the  situation. 
There  was,  however,  no  apparent  remedy,  since  it  was  not  in 
the  nature  of  things  that  the  fools  and  rogues  who  had  made 
the  match  and  carried  it  on  without  consulting  him  could  both 
lose  it. 

In  the  middle  of  the  forenoon,  having  brought  his  fruitless 
cogitations  to  a  close,  the  captain  determined  to  pay  a  visit 
to  the  camp  of  the  Western  man.  He  walked  across  the 
prairie  and  up  the  little  valley  in  which  it  lay.  Sassafras  was 
nowhere  to  be  seen,  but  Black  Dick  was  seated  on  a  rock  at 
the  base  of  the  eastern  hill,  looking  more  glum,  more  solemn 
and  more  black,  if  that  were  possible,  than  usual.  Over  to 
him  the  captain  walked,  and  when  within  a  few  paces,  said : 

"  Halloo,  you  Dick  !  what  are  you  all  about  here  ?  Where's 
Sassafras,  you  black  rascal  ?" 


200  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"Ober  dar,"  replied  Dick,  pointing  to  the  stable  of  the 
mare. 

"  And  what's  the  matter  with  you  ?"  said  Staples.  "  You 
look  as  sulky  as  a  lone  bull  driven  from  the  herd." 

"  T'ink  I  ought,  when  I  get  licked  for  nothing,"  replied 
Dick,  in  his  sulkiest  tone.  "  'Cause  'e  mar'  slip  and  pull  up 
lame,  Sassafras  git  mad  and  lick  'e  darkey  like  eberyting." 

"  Ah !  he  whipped  you  on  account  of  the  accident  to  the 
mare.  Now,  that  was  wrong,  very  wrong,  Dick.  It  was  un- 
just and  I  hate  injustice.  I  never  whip  my  boys  without 
good  reason,  as  I  tell  'em ;  but  there's  very  few  such  masters 
as  me.  In  fact,  my  only  fault  as  regards  them  boys  is,  that 
I  am  too  indulgent.  Sassafras  is  different.  I'm  sure  this 
wasn't  your  fault,  Dick.  I  have  always  said  you  were  the 
best  rider  in  the  country,  and  a  pattern  for  other  boys.  Is 
this  matter  serious,  and  how  did  it  happen  ?  Is  she  broke 
down  ?" 

"  Can't  tell,"  replied  Dick,  looking  down.  "  Felt  her  falter 
at  de  t'ree-quarter  pole.  Jest  afo'  de  gallop  was  finish  felt  her 
let  down.  I  t'ink  she  break  down  in  de  off  fo'  leg.  Sassafras 
got  mad  'cause  I  didn't  pull  up  afo',  and  gave  me  an  awful 
lickin'." 

"  It's  jest  like  Sassafras,  but  all  wrong,"  replied  the  captain. 
"  I  shall  tell  him  so.     He  was  wrong  to  lick  you." 

"  He  lick  somebody  else  afo'  long,"  said  Dick,  with  an 
ominous  look.  "  'Fore  God,  captain,  I  uebber  see  him  so  mad 
as  he  is  now  since  dat  ar'  time  when  he  kill  de  t'ree  men  what 
murdered  his  father  and  brother !" 

"  I've  heard  of  that.  It  was  a  bad  and  bloody  business. 
You  think  he  feels  like  that  now,  eh  ?" 

"  Am  berry  sure  he  does,"  replied  Dick. 

"  Well,  I  must  see  him,  for  all  that,"  said  Staples,  walking 
slowly  away  towards  the  light  log-stable  of  the  unfortunate 
gray  mare. 

The  black  looked  after  him,  but  furtively,  seeming  to  think 
that  he  might  turn  around.  Once  the  wide  mouth  of  the 
negro  was  opened  so  as  to  display  all  the  white  teeth  which 
guarded  the  red  cavern  within,  but  he  closed  his  lips  again 
firmly,  and  the  single  bright  eye  was  again  dropped  to  the 
grass  at  his  feet. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  201 

Tho  old  man  neared  the  stable,  and  glanced  around.  Enter- 
ing without  notice  to  whoever  might  be  inside,  he  found  Sas- 
safras leaning  against  the  side  of  the  building,  and  watching 
his  favorite  mare  as  she  ate  a  feed  of  oats  and  hominy  wetted 
down  into  a  cold  mash.  Whatever  injury  there  might  be  to 
what  her  owner  called  "  the  running  tackle,"  it  was  plain  that 
Virginia  had  not  suffered  any  to  her  constitutional  appetite ; 
for  she  was  feeding  with  a  relish  which  bordered  on  voracity. 
Her  fore  legs  were  in  red-flannel  bandages,  and  it  was  plain  to 
the  captain  that  in  the  off  one  there  was  an  enlargement 
between  the  knee  and  the  ankle  joint.  Sassafras  took  no 
notice  of  his  visitor.  The  old  man  glanced  from  the  mare  to 
her  master,  and  his  eye  fell  upon  the  rifle  which  stood  against 
the  logs,  ready  to  the  hand  of  the  borderer.  It  was  a  time  lor 
caution.  The  venerable  captain  knew  that  whenever  his 
young  friend  was  in  an  ugly  mood  he  always  had  that  formi- 
dable weapon  with  him,  together  with  a  brace  of  pistols  and 
a  long  knife.  It  was  a  trait  of  the  man  that  whenever  things 
went  wrong,  and  friends,  horses  and  luck  seemed  to  fail  him, 
he  straightway  took  to  his  arms,  and  hugged  them  close,  as  if 
drawing  composure  of  mind  and  strength  of  resolution  from 
the  steel  of  which  they  were  composed.  Another  minute  or 
two  passed,  when  Sassafras,  without  turning  to  look  at  Sta- 
ples, said : 

"You  have  come  now  when  the  mischief  is  done,  like  a 
raven  to  a  dying  horse.  I  fear  the  jig  is  up  for  the  present. 
The  music  has  got  to  be  paid  for;  and  we  must  get  out  of  the 
hobble  the  best  way  we  can." 

"  We,  Sassafras  !  who  is  we  ?"  said  the  captain.  "  I  ain't 
in  with  you  in  this  business,  you  know." 

"  What  d'ye  mean  by  that  ?"  replied  Sassafras.  "  You  w^ere 
to  give  your  answer  in  three  days,  if  you  declined  to  take  a 
hand,  and  the  fifth  is  now  half  gone." 

"  You  mistook  the  matter,"  said  the  captain.  "  I  was  to  let 
you  know  if  I  ivould  go  in,  not  if  I  wouldn't.  I  certainly  am 
not  '  i/i'  at  present,  but  I  may  be  after  all.  Let  me  have  a 
look  at  the  mare's  leg.     This  may  be  a  trifle." 

"  Look  away  !  I  shall  not  take  the  bandage  off  for  anybody ; 
but  you  may  see  her  walk,  if  you  like." 

The  captain  did  like,  since  he  could  see  no  more.     In  a  few 


202  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

minutes,  when  Virginia  had  finished  her  feed,  Sassafras  put  a 
bridle  on  her  and  taking  her  outside  led  her  up  and  down 
before  the  stable. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it  ?"  said  he. 

"  She  walks  quite  lame.  I  could  form  a  better  opinion  if  I 
saw  her  leg  with  the  bandage  off.  The  best  way  will  be  to 
gallop  her  a  mile  to-morrow  morning,  and  see  whether  she 
stands  up  or  not.     We  shall  then  know  the  worst." 

"  Ay  !  and  the  Englishman  would  know  the  worst  too,  and 
insist  upon  the  full  stake.  She  will  gallop  no  more  until  she 
strips  for  the  race,  if  she  ever  runs  it." 

*'  Suit  yourself,"  replied  Staples.  "  You  asked  for  my  opin- 
ion :  you  have  had  it.  The  business  is  on  your  sole  account. 
I  ain't  in  it  in  any  shape  or  form." 

"  You  said,  suit  yourself,"  returned  Sassafras,  as  he  led  the 
mare  back  into  her  stable.  "  Now  I  say,  you  suit  yourself.  The 
case  is  far  from  desperate,  though  it  might  be  made  so  if  I 
galloped  her  to-morrow  morning.  She  has  had  plenty  of 
strong  work,  and  the  let-up  of  a  day  will  do  more  good  than 
harm  to  her  condition.  I  have  two  things  to  try.  By  means 
of  one  I  may  yet  win  ;  for  that  horse  can't  repeat,  if  the  pace 
is  strong  in  the  first  heat.     He's  too  fat  inside." 

"  He  may  be  a  little  fat  inwards,"  said  the  captain,  who 
knew  that  Sassafras  was  the  best  judge  of  condition  of  all  the 
racing  men  he  knew. 

*'  By  the  other,"  said  Sassafras,  "  I  shall  avoid  much  loss, 
even  if  I  conclude  not  to  start  her." 

"  And  what  may  these  things  be?"  said  Staples. 

"  The  first  is  a  kind  of  liniment  and  spell  confided  to  me  by 
Black  Dick's  great-grandmother,  who  was  a  Voodhoo  woman 
raised  in  Africa,  and  one  of  mighty  power.  She  warranted  it 
to  cure  anything  less  than  a  broken  leg  in  twenty-four  hours, 
Avith  rest.  It's  on  the  mare's  back  tendon  now,  and  I  have 
great  faith  in  it." 

"  It  might  be  of  some  avail,  if  she  was  a  real  Voodhoo 
'omau  ;  but.  Sassafras,  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  most  of 
'em  are  impostors,  and  have  no  power  for  good  or  harm — only 
the  ignorant  and  superstitious  darkeys  think  they  have.  Now 
I  am  neither  superstitious  nor  credulous,  and  I  ain't  going  to 
believe  that  Dick's  great-grandmother  was  a  real  Voodhoo 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOX.  203 

'oman,  having  established  dealings  with  the  African  devil,  he- 
cause  she  said  so.  What  proof  is  there  that  she  had  power?" 

"  This  liniment,"  replied  Sassafras,  "  which  has  never  failed, 
and  it  will  not  fail  now.  Don't  you  know  that  as  long  as  I 
have  had  race-horses  none  of  mine  ever  broke  down  ?" 

"  Well,  I  have  heard  as  much,"  said  Staples.  "  But  if  it 
was  the  Voodhoo  liniment  that  kept  'em  up,  you'd  better  have 
had  'em  break  down  as  often  as  I  have.  Sassafras.  I  call  it 
irreligious  to  use  the  African  things  and  Voodhoo  spells  ;  by 
G — d,  I  wouldn't  do  it,  if  I  was  you." 

"  But  I  will,  though.  If  the  devil  himself  was  to  rise,  and 
show  me  how  to  save  a  good  race-horse  from  the  misery  and 
fatality  of  a  breakdown,  I  think  I  would  follow  his  instruc- 
tions." 

"  Well !  well !  never  mind  the  Voodhoo.  I  know  you'll 
have  your  own  way.  What  is  the  other  thing  you  men- 
tioned ?" 

"  It  is  this,"  replied  Sassafras.  "  If  I  find  at  the  end  of  the 
next  twenty-four  hours  that  the  leg  is  no  better,  I  will  go  to 
Mr.  Grosvernor,  and  propose  to  pay  a  moderate  forfeit,  stating 
that  though  Virginia  may  be  able  to  run,  I  do  not  want  to  ex- 
pose her  to  the  risk  of  a  breakdown." 

"  A  good  idea  this,"  said  Staples,  with  a  sarcastic  grin.  "  As 
it's  a  play-or-pay  match,  he's  sure  to  agree  to  the  proposition, 
when  he  knows  that  your  mare  is  on  three  legs." 

"  Why,  a  gentleman  of  England,"  said  Sassafras,  "  connected 
with  the  nobility,  a  man  of  great  wealth  and  high  degree,  with 
no  end  of  money,  and  mines  and  cofiee  plantations  in  the  Lee- 
ward Islands  and  on  the  Spanish  Main,  is  sure  to  do  so.  Don't 
you  see,  it's  in  character  ?" 

"  To  be  sure  it  is !"  replied  Staples.  "  And,  this  being  the 
case,  and  everything  so  satisfactory,  you  needn't  want  me  '  in,' 
and  I  ain't  in.  Try  out  the  Voodhoo  spell  and  liniment,  and, 
if  the  mare  is  not  as  sound  as  a  Mexican  dollar  to-morrow, 
rely  upon  the  generosity  of  the  English  gentleman.  I'm  so 
convinced  of  his  having  that  quality  in  abundance  that  I've  a 
good  mind  to  go  and  ask  him  to  give  me  five  or  six  hundred 
dollars."     With  this  the  captain  left. 

It  seemed  probable  the  next  day  that  the  Voodhoo  charm 
had  failed.     In  fact,  the  horseshoes  in  and  about  the  stables 


204  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

may  have  destroyed  its  efficacy ;  for  it  is  well  known  that 
spells  and  incantations  are  rendered  of  no  avail  by  the  exhi- 
bition of  such  articles ;  and  it  is  admitted  that  the  Voodhoo 
rites  are  intended  to  propitiate  the  evil  one,  and  secure  a  grant 
of  power  from  him  to  be  exercised  on  earth.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  Keeps  succeeded  in  learning  from  the  thick-headed  dar- 
key, in  a  brief,  stolen  interview,  such  news  that  he  hastened 
to  give  Captain  Staples  the  benefit  of  it.  It  was  to  the  effect 
that  the  gray  mare  was  no  better ;  that  Black  Dick  had  been 
compelled  to  hide  in  the  woods  for  fear  of  serious  injury  from 
Sassafras ;  that  the  latter  was  savage  as  a  mad  bull,  or  a 
baited  bear ;  that  he  had  picked  a  quarrel  with  the  Cheyenne 
chief,  which  would  have  been  fought  out  upon  the  spot  but  for 
the  intervention  of  Campau  and  Pierre  Lauglois,  who  had 
been  sent  for  by  Francois  when  he  found  that  mischief  was 
brewing.  The  last  item  of  the  news  in  catalogue  was  that  the 
whole  party  had  gone  to  the  fort  at  nightfall,  and  were  there 
drinking  deeply. 

The  good  old  man  was  somewhat  surprised  and  a  little 
moved  by  this  intelligence.  When  he  had  left  Sassafras  the 
day  before  he  had  seemed  rather  hopeful  than  desperate — 
rather  pacific  than  furious.  He  saw  the  probability  that  if 
he  met  him  at  the  fort  while  he  was  inflamed  with  rage  and 
whiskey  a  broil  would  be  brought  on ;  and,  remembering  the 
sharp  and  sudden  fate  which  overtook  the  three  men  who 
killed  the  father  and  brother  of  Sassafras,  the  captain  sagely 
determined  to  keep  away. 

"  Keeps,"  said  he,  "  the  fit  comes  on  him  now  and  again,  as 
it  does  on  a  mad  dog.  It  will  be  better  for  you  and  me  and 
Kirby  to  steer  clear  of  him  to-night.  He  is  a  bloody-minded 
man  when  he  takes  these  fits.  Double  dangerous,  as  them 
insurance  people  called  it,  who  never  paid  when  my  property 
was  burned  up  down  the  river,  and,  indeed,  said  it  was  done 
a-purpose.  He's  desperate  and  a  villain,  with  no  love  of  God 
and  no  fear  of  the  devil.  Practising  of  the  Voodhoo,  which 
you  know  is  irreligious,  when  not  a  cheat  and  fraud." 

"Captain,"  said  Keeps,  "if  I  was  you  I  would  not  mention 
the  Voodhoo  just  at  present,  if  there's  any  chance  of  blood- 
letting about  here." 

"  Why,  you  don't  believe  in  it,  Keeps  ?" 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  205 

"  I'm  d — d  if  I  don't  then,  to  a  certain  extent ;  and  if  you 
want  to  talk  about  it  at  all,  it'll  be  a  good  deal  better  to  speak 
well  of  it." 

"  Dou  you  believe  it  can  do  any  good — to  the  mare's  leg, 
for  instance?" 

"  I  don't  think  it  can,  but  it  may  do  a  sight  of  harm  to 
somebody  before  long.  All  Sassafras's  niggers  agree  that 
Black  Dick's  great-grandmother  was  a  real  Voodhoo  'oman, 
and  we  will  let  that  pass." 

"  Well,  you  see,  if  we  go  where  he  is,  he  is  sure  to  raise  a 
row,  and  it  will  not  pay  expenses  to  fight  him  here.  We  will 
let  him  alone.  In  default  of  anybody  else  to  quarrel  with,  he 
may  have  another  difficulty  with  the  Cheyenne  chief.  If  he 
should  fight  Cinnamon  and  get  killed,  it  would  be  a  pleasant 
thing  for  all  good  people.  If  he  should  kill  the  Indian  it 
would  be  better  still,  for  a  redskin  I  have  no  use  for  would 
be  out  of  the  way,  and  the  other  Cheyennes  would  have  the 
scalp  of  the  slayer  before  to-morrow  sundown,  as  sure  as  your 
name  is  Keeps.     That  is  how  the  thing  stands." 

"  That  is  how  it  seems  to  stand  ;  but  still  I  should  like  to 
know  what  goes  on  among  them  yonder  ;  and  I  think  it  would 
be  of  some  service,"  replied  Keeps.  "  Campau,  coming  from 
St.  Jo.,  has  much  influence  with  Sassafras,  and  may  quiet  him 
so  as  to  hatch  up  some  sort  of  a  plot.  They  have  these  western 
Indians  under  their  control,  and  there  is  no  telling  what  they 
may  contrive  before  to-morrow." 

"  I  will  take  care  to  learn  a  little  of  what  goes  on,"  said 
Staples.  "  We  will  stay  away.  But  I  will  get  Mr.  Grosvernor, 
who  is  my  partner  in  the  match,  to  go  in  and  mingle  with 
them." 

"  Then  you  are  not  afr,aid  of  his  being  killed,"  said  Keeps, 
with  significant  emphasis. 

"  Not  much,"  replied  the  captain.  "  He  is  not  a  fighting 
man.     Sassafras  could  ofter  no  excuse  for  such  a  thing." 

"  Besides  which,  all  his  money  and  eflfects  would  be  left  in 
your  hands,"  said  Keeps  ;  "  and  then  again,  as  he  is  a  gentle- 
man of  high  family  and  station,  with  noble  connections  among 
the  dukes,  bishops  and  what  not,  the  British  might  take  it, up 
and  bring  on  the  next  war,  if  anything  of  that  sort  happened 
to  him." 


206  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

The  venerable  captain  did  not  altogether  like  the  tone  of 
irony  with  which  his  henchman  delivered  this. 

"  You  take  this  drink  of  the  old  particular,"  said  he,  handing 
Keeps  a  cup  of  whiskey,  "  and  then  go  and  send  Mr.  Grosver- 
nor  and  Kirby  to  me.  That  fellow  is  too  smart  by  half,"  he 
added,  when  Keeps  had  left  the  shanty.  "  He  knows  too 
much,  which  I  have  noticed  is  not  a  sign  of  long  life  in  these 
parts.  He  don't  take  what  I  say  upon  trust,  and  he  believes 
Jagger  is  not  the  man  he  holds  himself  out  to  be.  Kow,  Kirby, 
honest  fellow%  is  easily  satisfied  ;  but  he  is  so  bull-headed,  that, 
for  anything  other  than  main  strength  and  stupidness,  I  have 
to  employ  this  cunning  fox,  Keeps.  However,  the  fellow  is 
useful ;  and  having  been  well-blooded  in  fights  on  the  river, 
and  sent  three  or  four  to  their  last  accounts,  he  will  not  be  apt 
to  stick  at  trifles,  if  real,  thorough  work  is  called  for."  With 
this,  the  captain  poured  out  and  drank  a  good  dose  of  his 
especial  medicine. 

It  might  have  been  an  hour  after  this  when  Jagger  strutted 
into  the  large  store-room  of  the  fort,  in  which  Sassafras,  Cinna- 
mon, and  others  were  drinking.  The  former  had  been  informed 
by  the  captain  that  Virginia  was  broken  down,  and  literally 
standing  on  three  legs.  He  had  also  received  many  cautions 
and  instructions  from  the  old  man  as  to  what  he  should  do, 
but  all  these  Jagger  was  determined  to  disregard.  Treating 
with  contempt  the  assurance  that  it  might  be  dangerous  to  ex- 
asperate Sassafras  in  his  present  state  of  mind,  he  gave  full 
swing  to  his  domineering  disposition  and  love  of  vulgar  tri- 
umph. A  coward  at  heart,  but  a  fool  in  head,  and  ^ell  primed 
with  liquor,  he  was  rash  to  a  degree ;  and  the  taunts  he  in- 
flicted on  his  opponent  were  such  that  most  of  the  friends  of 
the  latter  w^ere  surprised  at  the  foi^bearance  with  which  he  suf- 
fered them.  In  fact,  the  Indian,  Cinnamon,  although  appar- 
ently unmoved,  was  more  excited  than  Sassafras  himself;  and, 
after  Jagger's  most  oftensive  boasts,  looked  at  him  with  such 
a  concentrated  gleam  of  white  light  as  is  seen  in  the  eye  of  the 
royal  tiger  when  he  is  about  to  spring.  Had  Jagger  seen  the 
Indian's  face  at  these  times,  it  might  have  subdued  his  vaunt- 
ing spirit,  and  caused  him  to  moderate  his  insolent  manifesta- 
tions of  superiority ;  for  there  was  something  in  its  savage 
ferocity  which  would  have  appalled  him.     But  he  looked  at 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  207 

Sassafras  alone — talked  only  to  him,  and  drank  deeply  from 
time  to  time  of  the  fiery  ^vhiskey  -which  the  traders  dispensed 
to  the  rude  hunters  and  Indians  at  the  fort.  The  Western 
man  remained  silent  during  most  of  Jagger's  long  harangue. 
He  looked  down,  and  his  foolish  opponent  believed  that  he  had 
lost  heart,  and  was  cowed  and  broken  by  the  misfortune  which 
had  befallen  him.  To  Jagger  this  was  a  reason  for  ostentatious 
triumph  and  unbridled  exultation.  It  may  be  doubted  whether 
the  barbarous  forefathers  of  the  Indian  chief  ever  tortured  a 
captive  at  the  stake  with  more  zest  and  less  feeling  than  Jag- 
ger displayed  in  taunting  Sassafras,  and  accusing  him  of  ig- 
norance and  stupid  presumption,  amounting  to  moral  insanity, 
in  pitting  himself  against  one  experienced  and  renowned  upon 
the  English  turf.  At  last  the  border  man  made  a  sort  of  faint 
reply,  or  rather  protest. 

"  Mr.  Grosvernor,"  said  he,  "  did  you  overcrow  your  noble 
relatives,  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Grafton,  in  this  way,  when 
they  were  compelled  to  give  up  the  Whip  ?" 

"  There  is  some  difference  between  my  relatives  and  you,  I 
take  it,"  replied  Jagger.  "  Every  man  to  his  proper  place  and 
tools.     I  believe  yours  are  the  spade  and  hoe." 

"  It  is,  in  some  measure,  true,"  said  Sassafras,  "  for  I  have 
dug  men's  graves  in  my  time,  and  may  do  so  again.  You  are 
said  to  be  an  English  gentleman " 

"Said  to  be — said  to  be?"  cried  Jagger. 

"  Ay,  sir,  said  to  be.  I  have  met  other  Englishmen  who 
were  said  to  be  gentlemen,  and  were  so  called  by  the  consuls 
of  Great  Britain ;  these  men  were  not  a  bit  like  you.  But 
that  is  nothing  to  the  purpose.  If  you  had  resembled  them,  I 
might  have  requested  you  to  take  a  moderate  sum  as  forfeit, 
and  declare  the  match  off.  As  it  is,  I  would  not  accept  any- 
thing like  a  favor  at  your  hands.  I  shall  run  the  mare  if  she 
is  in  anything  like  a  state  to  make  use  of  her  leg  under  the 
heavy  weight,  and,  win  or  l«se,  it  is  the  sole  race  I  shall  ever 
have  with  you.  The  transactions  of  the  turf  ought  always  to 
be  between  men  whose  principles  are  honorable,  no  matter 
what  their  wealth  and  station  in  life  may  be.  You  are  no 
such  man." 

With  this  Sassafras  turned  away,  leaving  Jagger  somewhat 
confounded  by  the  words  and  the  stern,  emphatic  manner  of 


208  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

their  delivery.  He  first  had  recourse  to  the  whiskey,  aud  then 
addressed  himself  to  Campau  : 

"  Your  friend  from  Missouri  is  out  of  his  mind,"  said  he. 
"  It's  lunacy — sheer  lunacy,  to  talk  in  that  manner  to  me,  or 
to  think  of  starting  his  mare.  I'll  lay  a  hundred  to  one  on 
my  own  horse." 

That  observation  was  overheard,  aud  there  were  offers  to 
take  the  bet,  but  Jagger  would  not  stand  to  it.  At  last,  how- 
ever, after  much  altercation  and  banter,  he  retired  into  the 
back  room  and  made  a  bet  of  a  thousand  guineas  to  two 
hundred  and  fifty  with  Sassafras,  and  produced  the  gold  from 
two  large  belts  worn  round  his  body.  It  thus  appeared  that 
while  Staples  thought  the  money  was  in  a  brass-bound  box, 
double-locked  and  committed  to  him  for  safe-keeping,  it  was 
really  being  borne,  night  and  day,  by  Jagger  himself,  at  great 
inconvenience.  Sassafras  was  furnished  with  money  by  the 
manager,  from  an  amount  deposited  by  Tom  Scarlet,  but  in 
Campau's  name,  and  the  stakes  were  made  good  on  both  sides. 
After  this  Mr.  Jagger  returned  to  the  outer  store,  and  in 
company  with  Indians,  half-breeds,  hunters  and  trappers,  got 
60  drunk  that  Kirby  and  Keeps  were  sent  for  at  midnight  to 
take  him  away. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

"Virginia  was  a  noble  steed; 
Gray,  aud  of  the  Medley  breed — 
Full*  of  tire,  and  full  of  bone, 
All  her  lineage  tried  and  known. 
Muzzle  tine  and  nostrils  thin. 
But  blown  abroad  by  the  pride  within.'* 

THE  morning  of  the  day  named  for  the  race  was  clear, 
bright  aud  beautiful.  The  sun  rose  without  a  cloud  on 
the  eastern  horizon,  and  the  haze  which  lay  upon  the  lowlands 
soon  disappeared,  while  the  rich  tints  of  the  forest  foliage 
showed  all  their  varied  hues  in  the  autumn  rays,  as  the  god 
of  day  topped  the  eastern  liills.  There  was  great  anxiety  in 
the  minds  of  the  immediate  parties  to  the  race,  and  some  un- 
certainty in  those  of  the  men  not  immediately  concerned,  as 
to  whether  it  would  come  off  at  all.     The  prevailing  impres- 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  209 

sion  was  that,  at  the  ]ast  moment,  Sassafras  would  refuse  to 
rim  his  mare.  The  Dunibers  about  the  fort  had  been  somewhat 
increased.  The  news  of  the  race  had  been  spread  far  and  wide 
throughout  all  that  wild  region  by  hunters  and  runners. 
Indians  had  come  in,  as  well  as  some  roving  white  men  from 
the  frontier  parts  of  Arkansas,  Missouri,  the  Cherokee  territory, 
and  the  Indian  territory  to  the  west,  which  is  now  the  popu- 
lous and  thriving  state  of  Kansas.  Keeps  was  very  early 
a-foot  and  in  a  restless  state  of  mind.  He  had  a  devouring 
curiosity  to  hear  more  about  Virginia.  Neither  he  nor  his 
worthy  principal,  Captain  Staples,  knew  of  the  last  large  bet 
made  by  Jagger  with  Sassafras,  for  as  soon  as  the  former  got 
sober  his  heart  began  to  fail  him  on  account  of  the  amount  of 
money  he  had  upon  the  event,  and  he  resolved  to  say  nothing 
about  it  until  after  the  race  was  run.  Still,  Keeps  could  not 
altogether  suppress  the  suspicion  that  Sassafras  meditated  a 
secret,  sudden  and  staggering  blow  of  some  sort,  and  that  his 
strategy  was  to  be  watched  and  feared.  In  his  assertions  Keeps 
put  .little  faith,  and  scarcely  more  in  his  admissions  to  Stai3les. 
Keeps  knew  what  his  own  were  worth  in  such  emergencies,  and 
determined  to  see  all  he  could  for  himself.  From  a  close  cover 
he  saw  the  mare  very  early  in  the  morning  led  out  for  a  walk, 
and  she  went  lame  in  the  off  fore  leg,  but,  so  far  as  he  could 
perceive  from  a  distance,  not  very  lame.  After  that  she  was 
taken  back  to  her  stable,  into  which  no  man  had  since  entered 
save  Sassafras,  Black  Dick,  and  an  Indian  Keeps  did  not 
know. 

Whether  these  parties  were  engaged  in  making  another 
trial  of  the  Voodhoo  charm,  in  which  Keeps  was  somewhat 
of  an  unwilling  believer,  as  many  were  who  had  mixed  much 
with  the  negroes  of  the  southwest,  he  was  unable  to  determine. 
Ignorant  and  incredulous  in  regard  to  many  things,  and  with- 
out much  fear  of  the  white  man's  particular  devil,  Keeps  was 
superstitious,  and  had  more  present  fear  of  the  African  devil, 
whose  proceedings  he  had  always  heard  were  much  more  sum- 
mary than  those  of  the  evil  one  of  the  Scriptures.  If  Jagger 
had  not  been  silent  about  his  last  large  bet  with  Sassafras, 
Keeps  would  have  feared  the  worst,  and  might  have  conjec- 
tured the  truth.  But  he  now  thought  that,  in  his  desperate 
strait.  Sassafras  was  relying  upon  the  enchantments  of  the 
14 


210  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

Voodhoo.  From  what  he  had  been  able  to  observe  at  a  dis- 
tance, the  man  of  the  border  had  the  air  of  a  necromancer, 
while  Black  Dick  was  not  unlike  a  familiar,  bound  to  work 
his  master's  will.  Keeps  silently  rejoiced  in  the  conclusion 
that  the  Voodhoo  power  inherited  by  Dick  could  not  amount 
to  much.  Even  admitting  that  his  great-grandmother  pos- 
sessed it  in  all  its  native  force,  fresh  from  her  African  home 
on  the  banks  of  the  Niger,  there  were  two  generations  between 
him  and  her,  both  of  which  had  been  born  in  America.  After 
lurking  about  for  some  time,  and  making  many  signals,  he  at 
last  succeeded  in  attracting  the  attention  of  the  thick-headed 
negro,  and  got  him  to  come  into  the  cover  where  he  lay  con- 
cealed. Keeps  hastily  questioned  him,  asseverating  his  warm 
friendship,  and  his  determination  to  pay  him  well  for  informa- 
tion— "  truthful  and  useful  information.  Calabash,"  said  he. 

The  result  was  rather  unsatisfactory  at  first.  The  man 
seemed  to  be  more  addle-headed  than  ever.  In  a  daze  of 
amazement  and  fright,  and  with  a  stare  of  downright  vacuity, 
he  shook  his  large  head  and  helplessly  muttered : 

"  Soraet'ing  in  hand,  I  t'ink." 

"Well,  I  know,  and  it  ain't  unreasonable  on  your  part. 
But,  Calabash,  I  got  nothing  myself  just  now.  After  the  race 
I  shall  have  a  great  deal  of  money,  and  you'll  see  that  I  will 
divide  with  you.  Now,  just  tell  me  who  is  down  there,  and 
what  they  are  doing." 

"  'Fo'  God,  Massa  Keeps,  I  brieve  dey  makin'  preparations 
to  raise  de  debbil.  Dere  Sassafras  and  Black  Dick,  de  French- 
men, Cinnamon,  and  a  strange  Indian  nobody  know.  I  hab 
reason  to  brieve  him  Medicine  Man  from  de  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. Den  dere  come  last  night,  after  dark,  two  more  Indian. 
One  a  horrid-looking  sabage,  wid  big  gash  all  down  de  face." 

"Ay,  ay.  Three  Scalps.  A  bloody-minded  redskin  that. 
Calabash.     What  of  the  other  ?" 

"  De  odcr  v.  as  de  young  Kiowa.  Dat  limb  of  Satan  swag- 
ger about  round  de  fire,  swingin'  knife  and  tomahawk,  and 
make  signs  dat  he  mean  to  scalp  me.  Keeps,"  said  the  negro, 
in  solemn  tones  and  with  a  portentous  look,  "  last  night  I  hab 
a  dream.  In  dat  dream  I  see  de  debbil.  Keeps,  plain.  He 
stretch  out  his  orful  claws  for  me,  and  I  wake.  What  you 
t'ink  I  see  next  ?" 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  211 

"  Why,  Black  Dick,  of  course,"  replied  Keeps. 

"  No,  sail !  Ober  me  stood  de  Kiowa.  In  his  eye  malice 
ob  de  fiend ;  in  his  hand  de  scalping-knife,  which  he  flourish 
round  my  head,  and  say,  in  his  barbarous  tongue,  '  Wool- 
isriz !'  I  know  not  de  meaning  ob  de  sabage,  but  from  his 
gestures  'spect  some  frightful  'lusion  to  my  top  ha'r.  De  fact 
is,  Keeps,  de  mar',  lame  or  not  lame,  dese  parties  say  dey  jest 
raise  de  very  debbil  hisself  but  what  dey  Tnake  her  win." 

"And  I  say  that  Sassafras  will  never  raise  anything  worse 
than  himself.  The  devil  don't  come  at  the  call  of  such  a  vil- 
lain ;  that  is,  not  the  right  and  proper  devil." 

"  I  dunno  !  I  dunno !  but  I's  in  mortal  dread.  Sassafras  is 
a  Yoodhoo  man,"  said  Calabash,  in  an  ominous  voice  and  with 
another  portentous  look. 

"  That's  all  nonsense.  The  whites  never  have  the  power. 
Besides,  it's  a  female  gift.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  a  Vood- 
hoo  man,"  said  Keeps. 

"Ain't  dere?"  said  Calabash,  with  some  contempt  in  his 
tone.  "Sode  ignorant  t'ink,  but  I  hab  'sperience.  Keeps, 
dere  is  but  one  man  on  dis  Western  continent  wid  more  know- 
ledge and  'sperience  of  de  Voodhoo  practice  dan  me — dat 
man  is  Sassafras.  I  admit  de  Voodhoo  men  to  be  more  scase, 
but  dey  hab  most  power.  Keeps.  I  seen  it,  being  what  you  call 
inwoluntary  spectator  ob  de  horrid  rites.  Black  Dick's  great- 
grandmoder,  dyiug  at  de  age  of  'bout  a  hundred  and  fifty,  at  de 
plantation  near  St.  Jo.,  gib  Sassafras  all  her  power,  and  mo', 
too,  befo'  she  take  lebe  ob  de  world,  and  go  back,  as  she  say, 
to  Africa." 

"Calabash,''  said  Keeps,  "  is  this  actually  true?" 

"  True  as  de  Voodhoo  itself,  and  dat  you  know  is  true  as 
gospel — de  adepts  in  de  sorcery  say  great  deal  truer.  Keeps, 
I  brieve  you  to  be  my  true  friend." 

"You  may  bet  your  life  on  that!"  replid  Keeps,  with 
ardor.  "  Kot  my  own  brother,  much  as  I  love  him — I'll  go 
further  than  him,  for  we  have  not  been  on  good  terms  lately, 
all  his  fault.  Calabash,  you  got  no  other  sich  friend  as  me 
on  earth.     Hear  me  swear " 

"  Nebber  mind  now — time  presses !  Besides,  I  hab  heerd 
you  do  dat  once  or  twice  afb'.  Now,  listen  to  me.  Dere  is 
more'n  life  and  deaf  involved  in  de  secret  I  gwiue  to  tell.     I 


212  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

hab  long  been  anxious  to  tell  it,  but  didn't  dare.  When  de 
ole  African  got  very  feeble,  I  was  sent  to  wait  upon  her.  She 
lib  in  a  hut,  solitary,  all  alone,  'cept  a  porcupine  and  a  rattle- 
snake— wouldn't  let  de  oder  women  come  near  her.  De  night 
she  died  she  started  up  at  dusk  and  say,  '  Dere  Sassafras !  I 
hear  tread  of  his  horse.  Fetch  him  heah.'  Keeps,  I  did  so, 
and  when  he  came,  wid  his  rifle  and  knife — he  was  returned 
from  a  hunt — de  ole  African  'oman  send  me  away.  Now, 
what  passed  between  dem  after  I  left  was  dis " 

"  By  what  means  did  you  find  out  what  passed  ?  I  reckon 
Sassafras  didn't  tell  you  ?" 

"  Massa  Keeps,  he  did  not,"  said  Calabash.  "  I  found  out 
by  de  same  means  which  hab  enable  me  to  gib  you  various 
information.  I  just  crawl  up  to  de  back  of  de  hut,  and  looked 
and  listened  t'roo  a  chink  in  de  clapboard." 

"  Ah  !  all  right.     Go  on,  Calabash." 

"  Well,  sah,  de  ole  African  say,  '  Sassafras,  you  good  man, 
only  you  nebber  whip  dat  boy  Dick  enough.  If  you  jest  whip 
him  strong  once  a  w^eek,  you  make  man  ob  him.'  Now,  Keeps, 
what  you  t'ink  of  ole  'oman  on  de  brink  ob  de  grave  wanting 
her  own  flesh  and  blood  whipped  once  a  week  ?  It  is  bery 
well  for  some  folks  to  talk  'bout  whipping,  but  it  is  a  t'iug  I 
hab  strong  objection  to.  De  ole  African  went  on  :  *  Sassafras, 
chile,  I  gwine  dead  to-night — gwine  back  to  Africa,  I  brieve. 
'Fo'  I  start  I  gib  you  de  power  ob  de  spirits,  de  Voodhoo  and 
de  fetish ;  what  I  bring  a  hundred  yeai-s  ago  from  de  land  ob 
de  lion  and  de  elephant,  de  crocodile  and  de  serpent.  I  get 
up  now.  Sassafras,  chile,  you  de  only  man  fit  to  hab  de  gift. 
No  black  man  heah  brave  enough.  Draw  your  knife  and 
look  upon  de  edge.  Now  open  vein  in  your  left  arm,  and  I 
catch  blood  in  the  gourd.  Must  drink  blood  ob  de  brave  'fo' 
I  got  strength  to  face  de  Voodhoo  power.  Prince  ob  de  jungle 
on  de  Niger.  When  he  comes  he  will  say :  "  White  man, 
thou  art  my  subject."  You  say,  "  Not  so,  dark  Prince ;  thou 
art  my  subject.  As  Heir  of  the  Woman  and  Master  of  the 
Steel,  I  will  compel  ?"  Now,  Sassafras,  stand  fast ;  be  all- 
brave  !  If  coward  hear  or  see  what  is  now  to  come,  it  is  cer- 
tain and  sudden  death  to  him.'  " 

"  And  what  came  next  ?"  said  Keeps,  with  eager  and  impa- 
tient curiositv.     "  What  next  ?" 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  213 

«  AYell,  Keeps,  I  next  cl'ar  out  away  from  dat  chink  in  a  • 
hurry,  habbing  no  reason  to  t'ink  de  Voodhoo  secrets  do  me 
much  good,  if  I  gone  struck  dead  certain  and  sudden  de  next 
minute.  iVfter  long  time  and  prayers  twice  ober,  I  crawl  back 
agen.  De  ole  African  lay  still.  Sassafras,  bery  pale,  paler 
dan  you.  Keeps,  now,  sat  by  her  side.  She  lay  a-dying. 
Sights  were  seen  and  voices  heard  round  de  hut  whar'  de  ole 
Queen  ob  de  Voodhoo  lay  a-dyiug.  At  de  first  faint  tinge  ob 
dawn  she  raise  up  and  look  awful — white  ha'r,  black  skin  and 
bone,  and  fiery  eyes  !  She  say,  *  Sassafras,  chile !  one  last  little 
gift.  All  \\^io  possess  de  Voodhoo  power  must  hab  it.  Take 
dis  bottle.  If  you  got  enemy,  bad  man,  ten  drops  in  coffee  or 
in  water  make  him  good ;  dat  is,  good  'nuff"!  Ten  drops  plenty 
for  de  worst  and  strongest  man  dat  lives ;  but.  Sassafras,  chile, 
if  you  eber  'spect  Calabash  ob  treachery  and  treason,  gib  him 
eleben !'  O,  Keeps,  eleben  !  and  with  dat  she  died.  What 
you  t'iuk  now,  Keeps  ?" 

«  Think  !  I  don't  know  what  to  think,  except  this :  Ten 
drops  in  coffee  or  in  water,  the  old  sorceress  said.  I'll  drink 
nothing  but  whiskey  in  the  infernal  company  of  Sassafras." 

"  You  don't  want  to  be  made  good,  eh  ?" 

"  Not  by  them  unlawful  and  diabolical  means,"  said  Keeps, 
as  he  stole  hastily  away. 

It  was  nearly  three  o'clock,  in  the  afternoon  of  the  day  in 
question,  and  the  time  of  the  race  was  near  at  hand.  Con- 
sidering the  remote  situation  of  the  place  of  action,  a  large 
crowd  was  assembled  in  front  of  the  fori.  Every  Indian, 
every  hunter,  and  every  trapper  about  those  parts  had  come 
to  see  the  event,  and  to  bet  his  money  if  he  could.  There  were 
three  distinct  races  of  men,  as  well  as  the  half-breeds.  The 
aborigines  of  North  America  were  in  the  majority,  the  white 
men  were  next  in  number,  the  negroes  were  the  smallest  body, 
and,  in  fact,  slaves,  for  the  most  part,  to  the  whites.  The 
Indians,  the  whites,  and  the  half-breeds  w^ere  already  engaged 
in  gaming,  a  practice  for  which  the  first  have  a  notable  passion ; 
and  it  was  surprising  to  see  the  quantity  of  silver  dollars  of 
Mexico  these  roving  borderers  produced  with  which  to  play  and 
bet.  Some,  indeed,  gambled  for  stakes  of  gold,  and  put  up 
their  ounces  and  doubloons  v^ith  as  much  nonchalance  as 
grandees  of  New  Spain  or  planters  of  Louisiana.     The  White 


214  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

Horse  was  brought  on  to  the  course  first,  attended  by  Staples, 
Jagger,  Keeps,  Kirby,  and  the  negroes  belonging  to  the  party. 
He  was  taken  to  the  edge  of  the  track,  and  his  rider,  Jagger, 
alias  Mr.  Grosvernor,  went  into  the  fort  to  be  weighed.  The 
manager  of  the  trading  company  had.  been  selected  to  act  as 
judge  of  the  race,  and  had  reluctantly  consented  to  do  so.  He 
found  that  Jagger  was  the  stipulated  weight,  140  lbs.  The 
latter  was  nervous  and  shaky,  the  result,  for  the  most  part,  of 
his  previous  carousals,  but  also  in  some  degree  from  the  near 
approach  of  the  time  when  he  must  undertake  a  task  for  which 
he  knew  himself  to  be  unfit — the  riding  of  a  race.  He  re- 
quested to  be  supplied  with  a  stimulant,  and  having  taken  two 
doses,  by  way  of  medicine,  as  the  captain  would  have  said,  he 
found  himself  much  better. 

The  arrival  of  the  gray  mare  was  so  much  delayed,  that 
some  began  to  think  she  would  not  be  brought  out  at  all,  and 
large  odds  were  offered  against  her.  Still  the  oldest  and 
most  wary  of  the  borderers,  the  men  who  had  the  doubloons, 
and  were  prepared  to  stake  them,  hesitated  about  making  the 
White  Horse  their  favorite.  The  air  of  mystery,  which  had 
been  kept  up  about  the  mare  all  the  morning  had  caused  them  to 
doubt,  had  perplexed  Keeps,  and  had  mightily  provoked  the 
venerable  captain.  Of  those  who  had  seen  her  during  her 
morning  walk,  sjome  said  she  was  quite  lame  forw^ard,  while 
others  declared  that  she  was  apparently  sound,  but  it  was 
agreed  on  all  hands  that  in  bodily  condition  she  was  as  near 
perfect  as  possible.  It  had  been  remarked  that  she  was  bright 
in  the  eye,  blooming  in  the  coat,  lean  but  muscular,  with  flesh 
as  hard  as  brass.  The  patience  of  some  in  the  crowd  was 
nearly  exhausted,  and  the  manager  had  been  spoken  to  con- 
cerning the  delay,  when  there  was  a  murmur  of  "  Here  they 
come !"  and  a  sort  of  procession  was  seen  emerging  from  the 
little  valley  on  the  other  side  of  the  prairie.  It  was  headed 
by  the  famous  gray  mare,  always  a  prime  favorite,  in  her 
palmy  days,  with  the  Indians  and  borderers  who  knew  her. 
She  was  led  by  Black  Dick,  and  Sassafras  walked  on  the  off 
side  at  her  shoulder.  The  Frenchmen  and  the  negro  attend- 
ants followed.  The  Indian  chief,  the  young  Kiowa  and  a 
party  of  Cheyenues  brought  up  the  rear.  There  was  some- 
thing portentous  iu  the  ebony-like  face  of  Black  Dick,  and  in 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  215 

the  set  stare  of  his  one  eye.  As  they  approached  the  back- 
stretch  of  the  course,  some  of  the  men  in  front  of  the  fort 
crossed  over  to  look  at  Virginia.  Sassafras  was  questioned, 
but  his  replies  were  of  the  Delphic  order,  which  is  commonly 
and  naturally  the  case  with  the  answers  of  trainers  to  questions 
put  concerning  their  horses  just  before  a  race.  While  the 
bystanders  were  making  their  observations,  the  thick-headed 
negro  approached  Black  Dick,  and  whispered  a  proposition  to 
him.  The  steady,  stony  stare  of  Dick  did  not  relax,  and  he 
shook  his  head,  muttering,  "  Go  'way,  niggah  !" 

The  thick-headed  darkey  turned  to  Jules,  and  informing  him 
in  his  maundering  way  that  there  was  no  fun  in  horse-racing 
without  betting,  produced  a  greasy  rag  from  the  inside  of  his 
shirt.  From  this  he  took  twenty  Mexican  dollars,  and  re^ 
quested  the  Frenchman  to  bet  them  on  Virginia  for  him  at 
odds  of  three  to  one.  Looking  at  the  wooden-headed  darkey 
with  amazement,  the  Frenchman  protested  with  volubility, 
and  not  without  some  show  of  reason,  against  the  venture. 
But  the  wooden-headed  darkey  would  not  be  denied.  He 
forced  the  money  upon  Jules,  and  when  the  latter  said  he  did 
not  know  whom  to  bet  with,  desired  him  to  lay  it  with  Keeps, 
and  make  Campau  the  stakeholder.  The  Frenchman  sought 
his  man.  With  the  wager  in  view.  Keeps  borrowed  thirty 
dollars  from  Jagger,  extorted  thirty  more  from  Captain  Sta- 
ples, and  staked  it  with  Campau  against  that  of  his  muddle- 
headed  confidant  who  had  predicted  in  the  morning  the  "  Rais- 
ing ob  de  debil,  Massa  Keeps  !" 

Just  at  this  time  somebody  made  the  discovery  that  Black 
Dick  had  not  been  weighed.  The  negro  moved  never  a  mus- 
cle, but  kept  his  one  eye  fixed  on  his  master.  The  man  then 
said,  "  Here's  Dick  not  weighed  !" 

"  I  know  it.  Here  comes  my  rider,"  said  Sassafras,  as  a 
dark,  tall,  lithe  man,  with  a  saddle  on  his  arm,  came  up,  ac- 
companied by  Campau.  He  was  a  man  not  known  to  any 
there  save  Sassafras  and  his  confidential  friends. 

"  You're  the  right  weight?"  said  Sassafras. 

"  A  pound  more,"  replied  Campau. 

^'  Here  goes,  then,"  said  Sassafras.  With  great  quickness, 
but  with  care,  he  saddled  the  mare,  drawing  the  girths  tight 
with  ease  and  a  display  of  power  in  the  exercise  of  which  the 


216  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

perfection  of  his  sinewy  frame  and  build  were  displayed. 
Meantime  the  dark  man  threw  off  a  woollen  shirt,  exposed  his 
jacket  of  the  Sassafras  blue,  and  put  on  the  jockey  cap  of  the 
same  color.  He  vaulted  into  the  saddle.  Sassafras  went 
down  upon  his  knee,  and  in  a  moment  removed  the  bandage 
from  Virginia's  off  fore  leg.  The  thick-headed  darkey,  deft 
where  horses  were  concerned,  stripped  her  near  one.  Black 
Dick  let  loose  her  head,  and  away  she  went  at  an  easy,  springy 
canter  towards  the  quarter-pole.  These  proceedings,  so  quickly 
and  quietly  effected,  opened  the  eyes  of  the  border  men  on  that 
side  of  the  course.  Without  words,  but  with  meaning  looks 
at  each  other,  they  hurried  across  to  take  some  of  the  odds 
which  were  being  freely  offered  near  the  fort. 

Sassafras  and  his  immediate  friends  and  assistants  followed 
them.  Among  the  crowd  near  the  starting-place  much  noise 
and  confusion  now  prevailed,  and  sometimes  there  was  a  wild 
border  whoop  followed  by  a  yell  which  was  caught  up  and 
echoed  by  the  neighboring  hills.  All  this  tended  to  shake  the 
nerves  of  Jagger,  while  it  excited  the  spirit  and  chafed  the 
temper  of  his  fiery  horse,  as  he  cantered  him  up  and  down. 
It  was  already  apparent  to  those  who  were  good  judges  and 
who  watched  the  horse  and  rider  that  the  latter  was  afraid  of 
the  racer  on  whose  back  he  had  incautiously  ventured  at  such 
a  time.  The  horse  moved  with  free  and  powerful  action, 
fighting  against  the  bit,  while  Jagger,  pale  and  apprehensive, 
kept  a  desperate  pull  upon  the  bridle,  as  if  his  life  depended 
upon  not  letting  the  former  have  his  head.  The  mare  had 
been  turned  at  the  quarter-pole,  so  as  to  have  a  breathing  gal- 
lop of  three-quarters  of  a  mile  to  the  starting-place.  She  now 
came  sweeping  by  at  fair  speed  without  any  signs  of  lameness 
or  infirmity.  Astonishment  made  the  crowd  silent  as  they  saw 
■with  what  ease  and  gaiety  the  supposed  cripple  skimmed  along. 
Jagger  was  too  much  occupied  with  his  own  fiery  and  impa- 
tient horse  to  notice  her.  Kirby  had  been  drinking,  and  was 
better  capable  of  seeing  many  things  all  at  once  than  of  mark- 
ing a  single  matter  in  particular.  But  Captain  Staples  and 
Keeps  were  at  no  loss  to  perceive  the  nature  of  the  stratagem 
which  had  been  employed,  and  what  they  didn't  say,  as  they 
stared  helplessly  at  each  other,  was  very  eloquent.  Keeps 
was  the  first  to  recover,  and  having  done  so,  he  expressed  his 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  217 

feelings  by  a  strong  volley  of  oaths.     The  venerable  captain 
exclaimed : 

«  Here's  villainy  !  here's  roguery  !  here's  iniquity  for  a  man 

that's  young !    I'm  d d  if  this  world'U  be  worth  living  in 

when  Sassafras  and  his  partners  in  rascality  and  audacity  have 
come  to  be  as  old  as  I  be." 

The  bell  was  loudly  rung  and  the  gray  mare  was  brought 
back  to  the  starting-post.  Tom  Scarlet  displayed  the  ease 
and  mastery  of  practised  and  noble  horsemanship,  so  that 
Black  Dick  and  the  wooden-headed  darkey  exchanged  looks, 
and  the  young  K'iowa,  standing  at  Cinnamon's  side,  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  delight. 

A  start  was  soon  made,  in  spite  of  the  inability  of  Jagger 
to  control  his  horse.  On  the  other  hand,  the  mare  had  the 
steady  air  of  an  old  practitioner  who  knew  what  was  wanted 
as  well  as  her  experienced  and  accomplished  rider.  The 
White  Horse  was  a  little  in  the  lead  when  the  start  was  given, 
and  at  the  shout  which  followed  it,  he  got  the  better  of  Jagger 
at  once,  and  dashed  away  in  front  at  a  great  rate.  At  the 
quarter-pole  he  led  ten  lengths,  and  at  the  half-mile  as  much 
as  twenty,  whereat  the  unwary  ones  and  those  of  the  Indians 
who  were  not  of  Cinnamon's  tribe,  set  up  a  great  shout  in  an- 
ticipation of  an  easy  victory.  For  the  next  quarter  of  a  mile 
the  mare  held  her  own,  and  when  they  reached  the  starting- 
post  again  the  lead  of  the  White  Horse  was  much  diminished. 
The  mare  was  going  with  an  easy,  level  stroke,  and  under  a 
good  pull,  while  the  White  Horse  was  without  support,  under 
no  control,  and,  as  Sassafras  remarked  to  Campau,  "  running 
all  over  the  course."  But  his  speed  and  resolution  were  such 
that  with  any  one  of  even  moderate  capacity  to  ride  him  he 
must  have  won  the  heat.  With  a  good  pull  in  the  first  half 
of  the  second  mile  he  could  not  have  lost  it.  He  was  still 
leading  at  the  end  of  a  mile  and  a  half,  but  the  mare  had 
stolen  forward  inch  by  inch,  and  was  within  three  lengths  of 
him.  Another  furlong  and  Tom  Scarlet  shot  her  up  to  his 
girths  all  at  once.  The  horse  was  not  beaten,  but  Jagger  was. 
As  he  saw  the  mare's  head  opposite  his  knee  he  uttered  an  ex- 
clamation. Letting  go  the  off  rein  to  ply  the  whip,  he  pulled 
upon  the  near  one.  In  went  the  spurs  unconsciously.  With 
a  furious  kick,  and  then  a  mighty  lunge  and  leap,  the  White 


218  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

Horse  cleared  the  feuce,  rau  away  in  the  iufiekl,  and  pitched 
his  rider  off  into  the  mud  on  the  margin  of  the  pond  in  the 
centre.  The  mare  went  on,  distanced  her  antagonist  as  a 
matter  of  course,  and  won  amidst  the  shouts  of  the  majority, 
but  the  bitter  execrations  of  Staples  and  Keeps. 

"  You  rode  like  a  captain — a  master  of  the  art !"  said  Sas- 
safras to  Tom  Scarlet,  as  he  ungirthed  the  saddle.  "  By  Jove, 
at  the  critical  instant  you  shot  her  up  alongside  of  him  like 
an  arrow  from  the  bow.  It  is  well  enough  he  acted  as  you 
predicted  he  would,  and  bolted  out  of  the  course,  for  other- 
wise, with  a  change  of  riders  after  the  heat,  it  might  have 
been  a  tough  job  to  beat  him." 

"  Ay,  Sassafras.  You  can  see  what  a  horse  he  would  be  in 
slap-up  good  condition,  with  a  horseman  on  his  back,  for  a 
steeple-chase.  You  know  he's  fat  as  a  bullock  fit  to  kill 
inside,  and  had  the  worst  rider  that  ever  crossed  a  horse." 

"It  is  all  true,  Tom.  By  the  gods,  what  a  jumper  he  is! 
When  he  took  Jagger  over  the  fence  it  was  with  a  leap  as 
though  he  would  clear  the  Rocky  Mountains.  I  wonder  Jag- 
ger didn't  fall  off  then.  But  get  weighed,  and  let  us  clinch 
this  business." 

The  dark  man  was  found  to  be  the  proper  weight.  The 
manager  pronounced  the  mare  the  winner,  and  in  the  midst  of 
the  clamor  which  followed,  her  rider,  to  escape  further  notice, 
went  off  to  the  fort  with  Campau.  Sassafras  became  so  pop- 
ular that  he  received  an  ovation,  and  if  the  scene  of  the  race 
had  been  in  one  of  the  States,  a  proposition  would  probably 
have  been  made  to  nominate  and  run  him  for  Congress.  It 
was  astonishing  to  find  out  how  many  there  were  who  had 
expected  and  even  predicted  the  result  of  the  match  and  the 
method  by  which  Sassafras  would  achieve  his  victory,  all 
along.  Even  those  who  had  laid  their  money  the  other  way 
declared  that  they  were  not  disappointed  in  the  least.  They 
had  always  thought  it  would  be  just  about  as  it  had  turned 
out.  They  had  lost  their  money,  which  was  really  a  very 
small  matter,  and  could  be  made  up  another  day,  as  their 
judgment  was  confirmed  and  their  expectations  were  verified. 
Another  time  they  should  follow  the  dictates  of  their  own 
knowledge  and  common  sense.  On  this  occasion  they  had 
been  misled  by  Staples,  who  was  getting  advanced  in  years. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  219 

poor  old  man  !  and  by  the  English  gentleman,  who  was  a  d — d 
fool,  and  no  doubt  always  had  been.  This  was  pronounced  with 
emphasis,  within  hearing  of  the  man  himself;  and  it  was  sad. 
He  had  scrambled  out  of  the  mud  in  wretched  plight  and 
much  crestfallen;  and  here  was  he,  the  man  of  wealth  and 
station,  the  relative  of  noblemen  and  bishops — for  all  the 
crowd  knew  to  the  contrary,  as  it  had  been  so  announced — 
here  was  he,  an  object  of  contempt  and  derision  to  fellows  in 
buckskin  shirts  and  moccasins,  whose  possessions  consisted  of 
a  horse,  a  rifle,  and  a  knife.  Here  was  a  fall,  my  masters ! 
Staples  was  not  there  just  then,  and  for  this  Jagger  was  pro- 
foundly thankful.  He  feared  the  vindictive  old  man  so  much 
that  he  even  felt  a  flash  of  gratitude  to  Sassafras  because  his 
stratagem  in  regard  to  the  reputed  lameness  of  the  mare  would 
divert  attention  in  some  measure  from  his  own  inefficiency  as 
a  rider. 

Meanwhile  the  captain,  assisted  bv  his  darkies,  was  enframed 
in  chasing  the  White  Horse  in  vain,  and  in  devoting  Sassa- 
fras, Jagger,  and  nearly  ^everybody  else  to  the  infernal  gods. 
Keeps,  too  cunning  to  waste  his  wind  in  running  after  another 
man's  horse,  had  sought  and  found  his  confidential  friend,  the 
wooden-headed  darkey.  Catcliing  him  by  the  throat,  the 
exasperated  henchman  cried,  "  What's  the  meaning  of  this, 
you  black  villain  ?     What  the  devil  does  it  mean  ?" 

"  You  mean  why  de  Euglishman  let  go  de  horse's  head  and 
ram  in  de  spurs,  Massa  Keeps?  Why,  I  was  just  going  to  ax 
you  what  dat  mean,  sah !" 

"  The  mare,  you  black  rascal !   what  does  that  mean  ?" 

"  Oh,  de  mar' !"  replied  the  black,  with  a  vacant  stare. 
"  Well,  'bout  de  mar',  I  tell  you  afo'  I  believe  dey  raise  de 
bsrry  debbil.  Here  was  Sassafras,  and  de  Medicine  Man,  and 
Black  Dick,  and  Black  Dick's  great-grandmother,  Massa 
Keeps ;  and  I  was  satisfied  they  cure  de  mar',  if  dey  hab  to 
raise  de  debbil." 

"  None  of  your  humbug  !"  cried  Keeps.  "  I'll  choke  you  if 
you  don't  tell  me  something  better  than  this.  I  have  lost  a 
heap  of  money  to  the  Frenchman — Jules," 

"  Why,  Massa  Keeps,  hab  Jules  lay  money  wid  you  ?" 

"  He  has,  and  won  it,"  replied  Keeps. 

"  I  b'lieve  den  de  debbil  not  only  raised,  but  still  above 


220  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

ground  and  hab  power.     I  didn't  t'ink  Jules  would  have  beat 
you,  Massa  Keeps.     It's  too  bad  !" 

"  Sassafras  himself  comes  this  way.  I'm  off,"  said  Keeps ; 
"  but  before  I  go  tell  me  who  was  the  fellow  that  rode  the 
mare !" 

"  Massa  Keeps,"  replied  the  wooden-headed  darkey,  with  a 
profound  and  solemn  look,  not  unmixed  with  a  sort  of  satis- 
faction and  veneration,  "  I  verily  b'lieve  he  was  de  berry  debbil 
what  dey  raise ;  for  de  Medicine  Man " 

Before  he  could  conclude  Keeps  menaced  him  with  his  fist, 
and  went  off  to  avoid  the  man  of  the  Missouri  border. 

But  if  he  was  unable  to  conclude  his  tale  then,  the  thick- 
headed black  was  able  to  tell  it  to  the  end  many  another  time. 
As  he  grew  older  his  skull  seemed  to  grow  thicker,  and  he 
looked  more  hopelessly  vacant  than  ever.  But  as  he  was  a 
man  of  tried  fidelity  he  became  the  trusty  favorite  of  Sassafras, 
and  had  charge  of  many  good  horses.  He  proclaimed  his  firm 
belief  in  the  mysteries  of  the  Voodhoo  and  the  sorceries  of  the 
medicine  men  of  the  wild  tribes  of  Indians.  To  many  a  lis- 
tening group  at  the  stables  he  would  tell  how  Sassafras  and  the 
Great  Medicine  Man  of  the  Cheyennes  raised  the  devil  to  cure 
Virginia's  leg,  which  Satan  refused  to  do  until  Sassafras  bound 
himself  to  let  him  ride  her. 

The  White  Horse  led  Captain  Staples  and  his  men  a  weary 
dance,  and  was  at  last  caught  by  Black  Dick.  The  old  man 
walked  up  to  receive  the  bridle,  but  Sassafras  took  it,  saying: 

"This  is  my  horse,  captain,  and  I'll  take  care  of  him.  The 
beaten  horse  goes,  with  the  stake.?,  to  me." 

The  captain  grew  pale,  but  not  with  fear.  Under  some 
circumstances  he  would  have  resisted  and  tried  an  appeal  to 
force;  but  that  was  out  of  the  question  there  and  then.  There 
were  next  to  none  to  take  part  with  him.  The  border  men 
and  hunters  declared  that  the  best  horse  and  the  best  man  had 
won  the  race.  The  Indians  and  half-breeds  had  no  incentive 
to  take  up  his  quarrel,  but  a  very  great  motive  to  remain 
quiet,  inasmuch  as  the  Cheyenne  chief  and  his  Western 
braves  would  cry  their  war-cry  and  strike  for  Sassafras  until 
the  prairie  ran  red  with  blood  if  a  quarrel  began.  Swelling 
with  hate  and  rage,  and  eager  to  visit  his  wrath  upon  some- 
body, the  captain  retired  to  his  shanty.     He  sought  out  Jag- 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  221 

ger  and  took  him  with  him,  much  agaiost  the  will  of  that 
forlorn  and  discomfited  rogue.  The  latter  would  have  prefer- 
red any  other  company  to  that  of  the  captain  just  then,  but 
he  had  not  the  resolution  to  leave  him.  The  vindictive  old 
man  covered  him  with  reproaches,  which  were  mainly  deserved, 
and  with  ridicule  of  his  pretensions  as  a  rider.  From  time  to 
time  he  changed  that  topic  to  another  hardly  less  disagreeable 
at  the  moment  to  Jagger,  viz. :  the  combined  good  fortune  and 
villainy  of  Sassafras,  which  was,  he  said,  clean  against  the  old 
proverb,  "  A  fool  for  luck,"  according  to  which  Jagger  cer- 
tainly ought  to  have  won.  For  some  time  the  latter  made  no 
reply.  At  lengtli,  however,  he  was  goaded  to  desperation,  and 
being  a  proficient  in  the  slang  which  was  cultivated  to  perfec- 
tion in  the  gin-shops  near  Seven  Dials  and  the  slums  of  Drury 
Lane,  he  turned  upon  his  venerable  friend  with  such  force  and 
variety  of  vituperation  that  the  old  man  was  silenced.  Tliere 
they  sat  in  the  fast  gathering  gloom,  each  cursing  the  other  in 
his  heart.  The  captain,  ignorant  of  the  loss  of  the  thousand 
guineas  staked  the  night  before,  was  revolving  other  schemes 
by  means  of  which  to  come  at  the  supposed  contents  of  Jag- 
ger's  brass-bound  box,  while  that  individual  was  considering 
whether  it  would  not  be  better  for  him  to  shake  Staple?  ofi* 
and  make  a  friend  of  Sassafras.  There  was,  however,  this 
difliculty :  he  had  not  much  money  left,  except  that  which 
was  in  the  Bank  of  Louisiana. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

"I  dreamed  a  doleful  dream  yest'reenj 
I  fear  there  will  be  sorrow  ! 
I  dreamed  I  pu'd  the  heather  green, 
Wi'  my  true  love  on  Yarrow." 

"  Captain  of  our  fairy  band, 
Helena  is  here  at  hand  ; 
And  the  youth  mistook  by  me 
Pleading  for  a  lover's  fee  : 
Shall  we  their  fond  pageant  see? 
Lord,  what  fools  these  mortals  be  \" 

THE  various  parties  gathered  at  and  about  the  post  had 
prepared  to  break  up  and  leave  its  vicinity.     Some,  in- 
deed, had  already  gone.     Captain  Staples,  devoured  by  rage 


222  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

and  by  the  pangs  of  disappointed  avarice,  had  left  the  scene 
of  his  discomfiture.  On  the  second  day  after  the  race  he  had 
set  his  train  in  motion  towards  the  East,  revolving  schemes  of 
revenge  against  Sassafras,  but  not  quite  clear  as  to  how  he 
should  endeavor  to  put  them  in  execution.  The  unhappy 
Jagger,  sorely  tried  by  his  losses,  was  with  him,  more  like  a 
captive  than  a  free  agent.  He  had  not  then  told  Staples  of 
the  loss  of  the  thousand  guineas,  but  it  was  a  secret  which 
could  not  long  be  kept.  Keeps  had  suspicions  before  they 
left  the  post  that  there  had  been  some  secret  transaction  be- 
tween Sassafras  and  Jagger,  but  he  was  at  a  loss  to  guess  the 
nature  of  it.  He  waited  for  an  opportunity  to  worm  the  mat- 
ter out  of  Jagger,  hoping  to  establish  a  hold  upon  him  which 
might  be  useful  in  the  future.  At  first  he  was  inclined  to 
think  that  the  race  had  been  sold  to  Sassafras  by  Jagger. 
The  idea  was,  however,  soon  discarded,  as  Keeps  was  unable 
to  see  how  the  rider,  in  such  case,  could  have  cheated  any  one 
except  himself.  He  considered  it  certain  that  in  the  course 
of  their  lonely  journey  of  many  days  he  would  have  ample 
opportunities  to  get  the  truth  from  Jagger,  and  he  said  noth- 
ing of  his  suspicions  to  the  captain,  whose  temper  was  morose 
and  irritable  to  a  degree  of  savage  sullenness.  They  had 
taken  a  difficult  route,  one  leading  into  the  rugged  hills  lying 
to  the  eastward,  and  never  travelled  save  by  Indians,  or  the 
roaming  border  hunters  on  horseback.  Its  obstructions  and 
inconveniences  had  been  pointed  out  to  Staples  by  Keeps  and 
Kirby,  but  the  old  man  had  chosen  it  for  purposes  of  his  own, 
after  diligent  but  cautious  inquiries  respecting  the  intentions 
of  Sassafras  ;  and  silencing  objections  and  remonstrances  in  a 
peremptory  manner,  he  struck  into  the  eastern  hills  with  his 
train. 

The  Indians  were  also  on  the  move,  mostly  to  the  south- 
ward. The  Cheyennes  were  divided  into  three  parties.  The 
chief  with  ten  of  his  men  remained  at  the  camp  near  the  fort. 
The  others,  in  two  bands,  rode  away  to  the  west,  to  hunt  the 
buffalo  on  the  plains,  until  Cinnamon  should  come  up,  when 
the  whole  party  would  begin  their  march  toward  the  South 
Fork  of  the  Solomon.  Sassafras  and  his  Missouri  band  were 
preparing  to  leave.  His  business  at  the  fort  was  settled  up, 
though  the  gold  remained  in  the  safe  of  the  manager,  and 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  223 

wTiat  he  called  his  "  frolic,"  wilh  the  border  mea  and  hunters 
of  the  post,  -SYas  now  ended  after  several  days  and  nights  of 
conviviality.  It  was  just  break  of  day,  and  all  hands  in  the 
camp  were  astir,  when  he  and  Tom  Scarlet  strolled  up  the  lit- 
tle valley  to  its  head,  and  drank  of  the  spring  which  gusher? 
out  from  beneath  the  rock.  The  paint  and  dye  had  been  re- 
moved from  the  person  of  the  young  Englishman,  by  Fran- 
9ois,  and,  in  appearance,  Tom  was  almost  himself  again. 

"  We  shall  drink  little  more  of  this  water,"  said  Sassafras. 
"  Our  sojourn  here  is  about  ended,  for  when  we  return  from 
the  hunt  we  shall  stop  but  a  few  hours.  The  equestrian  games 
are  over  !  There  will  be  no  time  to  train  Danger,  as  you  say 
you  will  remain  but  a  few  days  with  me  at  St.  Jo.  I  shall  be 
sorry  when  we  have  to  part,  and  have  half  a  mind  to  go  on  to 
!N"ew  York  or  Baltimore  with  you,  and  see  you  on  the  ship 
which  will  take  you  to  the  little  island  over  the  main." 

"  Do  so.  Sassafras !"  replied  Tom  Scarlet.  "  I  am  for  ever 
bound  to  you.  You  must  keep  Danger  as  a  small  token  of 
my  gratitude.  He  is  a  good  horse,  and  no  man  is  as  well  able 
to  manage  him  as  you  are." 

"  I  accept  the  gift  as  freely  as  you  make  it,"  said  Sassafras ; 
*'  and  if  he  wins  when  I  train  and  run  him,  I  will  write  and  let 
you  know.  I  would  you  could  stay  much  longer,  and  see  other 
parts  of  America.  However,  you  can  come  back.  Your  visit 
has  not  been  fruitless.  You  have  recovered  the  White  Horse, 
and  got  back  the  money  Jagger  defrauded  you  and  the  gypsy 
of — that  is,  you  will  get  it  when  we  reach  St.  Jo.'' 

"  And  solely  by  your  means,  Sassafras." 

"  Not  solely !  We  all  did  our  work  well,  and  I  like  your  way 
of  riding.  The  AYhite  Horse  would  not  have  been  an  easy 
customer,  even  for  Virginia,  if  he  had  been  well  trained  and 
ridden.  The  rush  upset  Jagger,  and  took  the  little  horse- 
sense  he  ever  had  out  of  him.  It  wasn't  the  horse  we  beat, 
but  the  man.  What  a  game  it  was,  when  he  chucked  him 
over  his  head  into  the  mud !" 

"  I  didn't  see  that !"  said  Tom.    "  It  must  have  been  good." 

"  It  was  good  !  and  then  to  see  old  Staples  running  after  the 
loose  horse,  knowing  they  were  beat,  and  swearing  two  curses 
to  every  step — that  was  rich !  Well,  it's  over,  and  we  have 
one  thing  more  before  us — the  grand  hunt  beyond  the  Neosho. 


224  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

You'll  say  it  equals  anything  you  have  taken  part  in  here. 
If  we  have  the  luck  I  anticipate,  we'll  be  back  here  short  of  a 
week,  and  bring  the  heads  and  horns  of  two  or  three  elks  with 
us.  I  shall  strike  right  for  the  Neosho,  and  never  pause  long 
enough  to  pull  a  trigger  on  the  way,  unless  a  big  buck  crosses 
our  bridles,  and  stops  to  see  who  rides  so  far  in  the  hills  and 
woods." 

"  I  should  hardly  have  expected  you  to  select  thoroughbred 
horses  for  service  in  this  hunt.  Many  think  them  ill-fitted 
for  four  or  five  days'  riding  and  wild  fare,"  said  Tom. 

"  A  gross  error !"  replied  Sassafras,  decisively ;  "  my  expe- 
rience proves  it.  The  sound,  stout-bred  blood-horse  will  stand 
more  than  any  other  that  goes  on  four  legs.  He  is  the  best 
for  nearly  everything,  except  slow,  heavy  draught,  when  mere 
bulk  tells." 

"  But  the  young  chief  was  lame,  and  he  and  the  White 
Horse  are  both  very  full  in  flesh,"  said  Tom. 

"  All  the  better  for  our  present  purpose !  They  are  not 
going  to  run  against  Virginia,  but  to  carry  us  at  a  moderate 
stiff*  pace  in  the  woods.  When  we  reach  our  hunting-grounds, 
they  will  have  plenty  of  time  to  crop  the  grass  and  to  eat  the 
wild-pea  vine,  which  is  the  best  green  feed  I  know  of,  next  to 
blue  grass.  I'll  answer  for  the  horses ;  and  we  shall  take  a 
third  to  pack  the  hides  and  horns  we  may  get." 

"  But  the  lameness  of  the  Young  Chief?" 

"  Is  cured,"  said  Sassafras.  "  The  fact  is  he  never  was  very 
lame.  In  my  plan  there  was  no  use  for  him  sound.  But  he 
was  nothing  like  as  lame  as  the  gray  mare,"  he  added,  with  a 
laugh. 

*'  I  should  like  to  know  how  that  lameness  was  produced 
and  so  suddenly  cured,"  said  Tom. 

"  It  was  a  very  simple  matter.  I  may  tell  you  before  you 
leave  the  country ;  but  it  is  a  thing  only  to  be  practised  in 
an  emergency,  to  defeat  a  rogue.  It  is  like  putting  one  of  a 
man's  feet  in  a  very  tight  boot.  The  cure  is  like  ripping  it 
off." 

"It  was,  then,  the  bandage!" 

"  No !  but  what  was  beneath  the  bandage.  But  come !  we 
will  eat  breakfast ;  and  then  for  the  saddle — off  and  away ! 
Before  sundown   to-morrow  we  shall  be  on  the  left  bank  of 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  225 

the  Neosho,  and  the  morning  after  we  will  seek  the  elk.  You 
don't  seem  to  be  as  eager  for  the  grand  hunt  as  you  were." 

"  I  am  eager  enough  for  the  hunt,  but  there  is  a  drag  upon 
my  spirits,"  replied  Tom.  "  I  dreamed  a  dream  last  night  of 
home  and  May  Bullfinch.  We  were  together  in  her  flower- 
garden  at  Hawk'ell,  plucking  the  roses,  pinks  and  sprigs  of  the 
sweetbriar.     Then  again  in  the  wood  among  the  primroses." 

"  Ay,  ay !"  said  Sassafras,  "  among  the  hazel  and  the  haw- 
thorn thickets.  '  I  know  a  bank  where  the  wild  thyme  grows !' 
But  why  should  such  a  dream  as  this  dash  your  spirits  ?  Pluck- 
ing flowers  like  this  with  the  maiden  you  love  should  rather 
forebode  joy,  and  be  a  token  of  a  coming  bridal." 

"  Dreams,  they  say,  go  by  contraries,  and  I  feel  disturbed — 
unkid,  as  it  is  called  in  our  parts." 

"  More  fool  you  then,"  said  Sassafras.  "  Plucking  roses  in 
dreams  a  sign  of  sorrow !  Pluck  up  your  native  sense  and 
resolution  !     Let  us  eat  and  mount !" 

Two  hours  had  passed.  The  bright  sun  rising  in  the  clear, 
rejoicing  sky,  over  the  fair  face  of  the  goodly  earth,  lit  up  the 
spangles  of  the  morning  dew  beneath  the  variegated  bushes. 
The  young  Kiowa  sat  on  a  rock  just  below  the  crest  of  the 
hill  to  the  southward  of  the  Cheyenne  camp.  He  leaned  his 
head  upon  his  hand,  and  with  the  sunlight  glancing  on  the 
beads  and  glossy  hair,  which  hung  over  his  cheek,  looked  to 
the  southward  over  the  far-reaching  prospect.  It  extended 
many  a  mile.  Hills  and  vales  and  rocky  dells,  virgin  from 
Nature's  hand,  covered  with  forest  trees,  among  whose  foliage 
of  green  were  the  rich  autumn  tints  of  crimson  and  gold,  all 
bright  in  the  morning  sun  of  the  unclouded  west.  The  land- 
scajie  was  wild,  but  it  was  beautiful  in  its  very  loneliness. 
The  horsemen  of  the  hunt  had  just  disappeared  over  the  sum- 
mit of  a  lower  hill  to  the  southward,  and  the  youth  suflered 
his  eyes  to  wander  from  the  course  they  had  taken.  There 
was  a  grand  sweep  of  country  around  him.  To  the  right  he 
could  see  the  termination  of  the  broken  timbered  land,  and 
perceive  the  shimmer  of  the  mist,  not  yet  dispelled  on  the 
edge  of  the  great  and  distant  plains,  like  the  sunlit  surface 
of  a  silvery  sea.  To  the  left,  far  in  the  east,  over  a  vast  ex- 
panse of  hill  and  forest,  were  the  tops  of  the  mountains,  their 
westward  slopes  in  shade.  For  awhile  the  boy  was  silent,  but 
15 


226  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

at  the  end  of  some  minutes,  passed,  apparently,  in  deep  reflec- 
tion, he  sang  with  a  low,  but  full  and  rich  voice,  these  words : 

In  the  old  days  when  the  world  was  young, 
And  there  lingered  strains  of  the  anthem  sung 
On  creation  day  by  the  woods  and  rills ; 
The  laughing  rivers  and  the  glad,  green  hills, 
Our  fathers  lived  o'er  the  Eastern  deep, 
On  the  crown  of  the  regal  Indian  steep  ; 
Fair  was  their  lot  as  the  pearl  unstrung, 
In  the  old  days  when  the  world  was  young. 

God's  fair  young  earth  had  a  gladsome  face, 
Joy  was  His  gift  to  our  Aryan  race — 
Sorrow  and  guilt  had  not  left  us  their  scars  ; 
Of  all  in  the  world  we  were  nearest  the  stars. 
Loving  we  roved,  like  the  wild  birds  at  wing, 
In  the  meadow-gales  of  the  flowery  spring ; 
Peace  was  among  us — no  anger  nor  strife — 
Love  ruled  this  earth  in  its  morning  of  life. 
Sweetly  and  blithely  our  gay  songs  were  sung, 
In  the  old  days  when  the  world  was  young. 

The  singer  ceased,  and  Sassafras  burst  through  the  bushes 
of  the  crest  above,  saying :  "  At  last !  I  knew  from  the  first 
moment  I  laid  eyes  on  you  that  there  was  somebody  other 
than  a  Kiowa,  or  any  other  Indian,  under  your  paint  and 
clothes.  Who  and  what  are  you  ?  There  needs  no  further 
mystery.  Speak  to  me  as  a  friend.  As  a  friend  I  will  serve 
you.     You  are  not  young  Bullfinch,  eh  ?" 

"  Young  Jack  !  No,  I  am  not  Young  Jack.  But  my  part 
must  have  been  poorly  played." 

"Not  so,  lad.  It  imposed  upon  Frangois  for  a  time,  and  it 
has  imposed  upon  Tom  Scarlet  all  the  time." 

"  Poor  Tom !  What  a  horrid  fright  you  made  of  him  as  a 
Cheyenne.     I  thought  I  should  have  died  with  laughing." 

"  Well,  now,"  said  Sassafras,  "  I  thought  that  was  a  very 
pretty  piece  of  work  for  our  means.  We  had  not  the  appli- 
ances that  made  you  up  so  fine  and  gay.  You  surpassed  for 
handsomeness,  but  not  for  an  Indian.  Boy,  I  have  been  too 
much  among  them  to  be  deceived,  and  Cinnamon  shunned  an 
explanation.     Tell  me  who  you  are." 

"  I  am  not  of  Indian  blood,  and  yet  I  am.  I  am  not  of 
white  blood,  and  yet  I  am,"  replied  the  youth,  looking  down. 
"  Our  people  are  called  gypsies  by  those  who  build  towns  and 
live  in  them.     AVe  love  the  heaths  and  the  woods." 

"  That  is  not  strange,"  said  Sassafras.    "  I  myself  soon  grow 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  227 

tired  of  being  corralled  in  a  sort  of  '  canyon'  among  houses, 
and  make  for  the  woods  and  prairies  again.  The  gypsies  came 
first  from  Egypt,  I  believe." 

"  No.  The  dwellers  in  the  tents,  now^  called  gypsies,  came, 
as  our  traditions  tell,  a  long  and  weary  way,  always  trending 
towards  the  West,  from  the  Highlands  of  India,  Asia.  We 
have  nothing  in  common  with  the  Egytians  but  a  sound.  We 
never  had." 

"  It  was  then  to  the  people  of  that  old  and  remote  land  that 
the  song  you  sung  referred  ?" 

"  Ay,  to  the  ancient  race  who  peopled  the  Hindu  Koosh  and 
lived  nearest  the  stars.  From  them  we  descended,  and  our 
blood,  after  so  many  centuries  and  so  many  wanderings,  is 
still  unmixed.  Sassafras,  the  oldest  families  of  Europe  are 
people  of  yesterday  to  us ;  and  we  follow  the  habits  our 
fathers  followed  in  the  old  days  when  the  w^orld  was  young." 

"  From  your  English,  I  reckon  you  were  born  over  there," 
said  the  AVestern  man,  indicating  Britain  by  a  wave  of  his 
hand  towards  the  rising  sun. 

"  Yes,  I  was  born  in  England,  amid  the  bushes  of  a  hazel 
copse,  in  the  merry  spring-time,  when  the  young  lambs  frisk 
in  the  meadows,  when  the  throstle  sings  in  the  grove,  and  the 
hedge-sparrow,  silly  bird,  sits  on  a  great  Qgg  with  foolish  pride 
and  hatches  out  a  cuckoo." 

"And  your  name?"  said  Sassafras. 

"  Was  Cotswold  in  the  Midland  vales  of  England.  Now^  I 
am  called  the  Singing  Bird  of  the  Cheyennes." 

"  Well,  young  Master  Cotswold  !"  said  Sassafras,  seating 
himself  beside  the  youth  ;  "  although  time  presses,  and  Fran- 
cois will  wonder  why  I  tarry,  instead  of  joining  Tom  Scarlet 
and  riding  on,  I  should  like  to  hear  what  brought  you  here  so 
far.  I  think  you  have  been  trending  a  good  deal  towards  the 
West  since  you  left  the  place  your  Aryan  people  landed  at, 
when  they  struck  this  shore  of  the  Atlantic  ocean.  Besides,  I 
want  to  know  where  you  are  going  to  when  we  leave  the  post 
to  its  traders,  hunters  and  Indian  hangers-on !" 

The  youth  looked  down,  and,  avoiding  the  eye  of  Sassafras, 
said :  "  You  may  have  heard  Tom  Scarlet  speak  of  us  Cots- 
wolds.  Many  a  time  we  pitched  our  tents  in  the  green  lanes 
and  sheltered  nooks  which  lie  about  the  Grange,  in  his  father's 
and  his  brother's  time,  and,  since  they  died,  in  his  own." 


228  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO  N. 

"  I  have  heard  him  speak  of  Jack,  and  I  think  Cotswold 
was  the  surname  he  called  him  by ;  he  was  one  of  the  men 
Jagger  owed  money  to." 

"  He  was,  and  he  is  my  uncle." 

"  And  he  spoke  of  Jack's  nephew,  the  boy  Ike,"  said  Sas- 
safras. 

"I  am  not  the  boy  Ike!"  said  the  youth,  with  a  merry 
glance  of  the  eye,  which  quickly  fell  again. 

"  Tom  mentioned  no  other  boy  of  the  name,"  said  Sassafras. 
After  a  pause,  he  added  quickly :  "  he  mentioned  a  girl, 
though.     Let  me  sea,  what  was  her  name  ?" 

"  Do  you  think  it  was  Miriam  ?"  replied  the  youth,  drawing 
off  a  little  from  the  reaching  hand  of  the  hunter. 

"  I  think  I  was  a  blinking  owl  by  daylight !"  cried  Sassa- 
fras. "  I  knew  you  were  no  Kiowa,  nor  Indian  of  any  tribe ; 
but  I  got  on  a  regular  false  trail,  I  own.     You  are " 

"  The  Singing  Bird  of  the  wild  Cheyennes  here !"  replied 
the  youth,  with  a  burst  of  mirth. 

"  Ay  !  but  about  the  tents  in  the  green  lanes,  and  under  the 
hawthorn  bushes,  you  were  Miriam.  When  Tom  Scarlet  set 
out  in  chase  of  Jagger,  the  White  Horse,  and  the  stolen  money, 
you  followed  in  another  ship.  I  see  it  all  now,  as  clear  as  if 
I  had  been  there  myself,"  said  Sassafras  gravely. 

"  Not  quite  all,  I  think,  though  you  are  marvellously  acute,'* 
replied  Miriam. 

"  I'll  be  bound  you  are  in  love  with  Tom  Scarlet  and  fol- 
lowed him  for  love." 

"  I'll  be  bound  I  didn't,"  returned  Miriam  sharply.  "  Why, 
what  do  you  know  about  love  ?"  she  added  gaily. 

"Precious  little,  except  love  for  a  good  horse  and  a  true 
rifle,  and  a  little  frolic  now  and  then,  ending  perhaps  in  a  free 
fight  once  in  a  while.  But  you  need  not  tell  me  that  you  came 
for  nothing." 

"Listen,  and  you  shall  hear  no  lies,"  said  Miriam.  "You 
need  not  come  any  nearer.  I  never  heard  that  you  were  deaf. 
I  like  Tom  Scarlet ;  he  has  often  been  kind  to  me  and  my  peo- 
ple. But  a  lass  of  his  own  country  folk  loves  him,  and  he 
loves  her.  O,  Sassafras!  the  sweetest  maid  in  the  fairest  vale 
of  England  !  the  Rose  of  Hawk'll !  Jocund  as  the  morning 
lark  in  summer  time !  precious  as  the  twilight  hours  of  even- 


THE  WHITE  HOESE  OF  WOOTTON.  229 

tide  in  spring  !  And  then  the  only  daughter  of  one  of  the  best 
men  that  rides  to  market  and  a-field  in  all  the  broad  midland 
counties." 

"  I  have  heard  of  this  maiden.  She  was  left  behind,  you 
know,  when  you  followed  Tom  to  America." 

"  I  followed  my  own  chase,  most  likely  like  a  wild  goose  as 
I  was.  Remember,  I  am  a  gypsy  !"  replied  Miriam.  "  I  had 
a  purpose  in  what  I  did.  It  was  to  see  that  the  rascal  Jagger 
should  not  get  clear  away  with  his  plunder  if  I  could  help  it. 
At  New  Orleans  I  found  out  men  who  had  been  sheltered  in 
our  tents  when  the  Bow  street  runners  were  hot  after  them. 
By  their  means  I  kept  watch  and  ward  over  Jagger.  Chance, 
a  lucky  chance,  threw  Pierre  Langlois  in  my  way.  He  is  a 
good  man,  and  has  been  like  a  father  to  me.  I  saw  how  I 
might  follow  Jagger  and  Staples  in  disguise,  unknown  and 
unsuspected.  I  wrote  to  Tom  Scarlet  and  to  you.  I  had  been 
taught  by  May  Bullfinch's  mother,  a  kind  and  gracious  lady, 
laid  long  ago  under  the  boughs  of  the  great  elms  in  the  old 
churchyard.  You  know  the  rest !  I  have  done  but  little ; 
still,  that  little  was  to  let  you  know  where  to  meet  your  man, 
and  I  don't  regret  the  adventure.  All  the  trouble  and  fatigue 
of  it  have  been  paid  for  twice  over  by  meeting  with  the  Chey- 
enne chief — a  noble  fellow !  a  king  among  men  of  common 
stamp !" 

"  Ay,  ay !  Pierre  Langlois  was  like  a  father.  What  may 
Cinnamon  have  been  like  ?"  said  Sassafras. 

"  Like  a  brother !  like  what  I  think  a  brother  ought  to  be. 
I  never  had  one,"  replied  Miriam,  frankly. 

"  Hem !"  uttered  Sassafras,  after  a  pause ;  "  you  don't  love 
Tom  Scarlet,  but  the  chief  may  love  you,  eh  ?" 

"  Lord !  Sassafras !  you  question  one  as  you  would  look  a 
horse  in  the  mouth!"  returned  Miriam.  " Do  you  think  I  am 
to  be  wooed  like  a  beggar  under  a  bush  ?" 

"  The  chief  is  a  very  fine  fellow  !  A  better  man  after  scalps 
nobody  would  wish  to  see,"  said  Sassafras,  with  deliberate 
emphasis.  "  But  to  my  knowledge  he  has  already  four  or  five 
wives,  each  calculated  to  make  her  own  ground  good  against 
a  new  one  with  a  paler  face ;  and,  therefore,  Miriam,  when  I 
return  from  the  grand  hunt,  instead  of  going  with  Cinnamon 
to  the  Pocky  Mountains,  you  shall  *  trend  to  the  Northeast,* 
and  go  to  St.  Jo.  with  me." 


230  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WUOTTON. 

"  I  Dever  thought  of  goiog  near  the  mountains  with  Cinna- 
mon, or  anybody  else,"  returned  the  gypsy.  "You  talk  as  if 
you  had  the  command  and  disposal  of  one." 

"  Now,  girl,  you  look  at  me!"  said  Sassafras.  "  I  am  a  plain 
man.  I  live,  when  at  home,  on  the  Missouri  river,  near  St.  Jo., 
where  I  have  a  plantation.  I  own  five  or  six  race-horses ;  I 
know  the  use  of  the  rifle ;  I  love  sport  and  have  seen  a  good 
deal  of  it.  You  are  hundreds  of  miles  from  any  man  more 
disposed  or  better  able  to  be  your  friend  than  I  am.  I  never 
was  in  love — I  don't  pretend  to  be  now  ;  but  it  seems  to 
me  that  I  may  fall  in  some  day,  and  prove  tender  and  true; 
where  acquaintance  and  friendship  are,  love  may  come  at  a 
racing  pace.  Miriam,  I  have  made  up  my  mind  that  you 
shall  go  to  St.  Jo.,  when  we  return  from  this  hunt.  When 
you  see  my  horse's  head  coming  over  yonder  hill,  wash  the 
paint  away  and  be  yourself." 

"  There  is  a  certain  impediment  to  my  doing  so,"  said  she. 

"  And  what  may  that  be  ?" 

"  The  lack  of  suitable  petticoats  and  other  things  that  you 
know  nothing  about,"  she  replied  with  a  laugh.  "  But  seriously, 
Sassafras,  you  should  waste  no  more  time  here  now.  "When 
you  return  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you,  and  then  we  will  decide 
as  to  which  road  I  shall  travel.  I  suppose  it  may  be  left  un- 
decided until  then.  You  seem  rather  slack  for  a  hunting 
morning." 

"  No,  I  am  not  slack,"  he  replied  ;  "  but  I  have  come  upon 
a  sort  of  game  I  never  thought  of.  Keep  close  to  the  chief 
until  I  return,  or  to  Pierre  Langlois.  However,  as  you  are 
known  to  be  with  them,  and  seem  to  be  a  spirited  boy,  there  is 
no  fear  of  any  rudeness  being  shown.  But  that  throwing  of 
the  knife  young  Joe  told  of.     How  about  that  ?" 

"  A  mere  juggler's  trick,  taught  me  by  a  mountebank.  All 
sorts  of  people  used  to  come  to  our  tents  at  times." 

"  Well,  Miriam,  good-by — good-by  for  the  present." 

With  this  the  border  rover  sought  his  horse,  and  having 
mounted  rode  away.  "  Strange,"  said  he,  "  that  I  should  be 
so  deceived.  The  paint  and  the  breeches  done  it,  especially 
the  last.  Yet  1  was  an  owl  not  to  see  that  the  boy  was  no  boy, 
but  a  girl.  I  never  heard  her  speak  before.  The  voice  would 
have  informed  me,  even  though  it  was  the  gypsy  language, 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  231 

■which  may  be  the  same  as  Kiowa,  for  all  anybody  can  tell. 
Her  face  must  be  handsome,  for  even  under  the  paint  I  can 
see  that  its  lineaments  are  good,  and  her  eyes  are  beautiful. 
She  has  a  voice  like  the  fall  of  water  on  a  summer's  day ;  and 
no  young  doe  is  more  graceful  in  movement  and  figure.  'Tis 
a  comely  maiden,  without  doubt.  What  a  wife  she'll  make 
for  somebody !  For  the  matter  of  that,  why  not  for  me  ?  I 
want  no  pale-faced  doll,  with  weak  nerves  and  headaches,  but 
one  of  tact  and  spirit,  able  to  keep  the  roof  overhead  while  I 
am  away.  Perhaps  to  ride  and  shoot  upon  occasions.  She 
may  suit  me,  and  it  would  be  a  blessed  thing  for  the  people  on 
the  plantation  to  have  such  a  mistress.  I  have  no  one  to  please 
but  myself  My  sister  and  my  cousin  Elizabeth,  being  of  the 
Old  Dominion  blood,  might  object  to  the  gypsy.  But,  what 
then  ?  I'll  have  my  way  !  They  need  not  know  it  at  first. 
She  might  pass  for  a  Spanish  Creole,  and,  as  she  says,  the  oldest 
families  of  British  descent  are  but  people  of  yesterday  to  hers. 
It  may  come  about." 

Now  here  was  a  shocking  instance  of  disregard  of  the  beau- 
tiful principles  of  woman's  rights.  The  man  partly  settles  the 
matter  in  his  own  mind,  as  though  whatever  he  desired  must 
govern  ;  and  this  has  always  been  the  way  with  the  male 
tyrant,  against  whom  America  and  Britain  now  afford  some 
prospects  of  successful  rebellion.  Perhaps  Miriam  was  not  to 
be  overborne  in  this  off-hand  manner.     She  had  already  put 

the on,  and  might  assert  her  "  rights."     Meantime,  she 

remained  near  the  rock,  and  watched  Sassafras  until  his  form 
and  horse  were  hid  as  he  dashed  into  the  bushes  on  the  slope 
of  the  further  hill.  Then,  O  lamentable  truth  !  it  appeared 
that  she  had  not  the  spirit  to  assert  her  "  rights."  In  spite  of 
her  descent  and  independent  habits,  in  spite  of  her  arms,  her 
paint  and  feathers,  and  her  very  handsome  trousers,  she  proved 
as  ready  to  meekly  meet  the  half-advances  of  the  "horrid 
man,"  as  any  maiden  of  Anglo-Saxon  lineage. 

"  Heigho  !"  she  exclaimed.  "  He  is  well-born  and  well-to- 
do.  Bold,  brave  and  honest.  Far  from  bad-looking,  to  my 
mind.  Much  better  than  the  youth  of  cream-and-strawberry 
complexions  in  England.  This  is  a  man !  No  gypsy  can 
compare  with  him.  Besides,  I  don't  want  a  gypsy  husband, 
sleeping  in  the  tents  or  the  fern  all  day,  and  poaching  all  night. 


232  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

The  ties  that  bind  me  to  the  tribe  are  thin  and  ^Yorn.  I  love 
the  pleasant  fields  and  thick  overhanging  woods  of  dear  Old 
England,  and  their  green  glades  in  the  gloaming,  when  the 
leverets  play.  Her  kindly  people  have  done  well  by  me.  I 
love  the  scent  of  violets  in  the  spring,  of  rich  bean  blossoms 
in  the  summer  days,  the  cuckoo's  quaint  and  distant  call,  the 
coo  of  cushats  to  their  nesting  mates,  the  songs  of  birds  from 
every  bush  and  brake,  the  carol  of  the  lark,  unseen  in  the 
bright,  blue  sky,  and  the  sweet  sound  of  bells  upon  the  breeze. 
Heigho !  '  It  was  a  lover  and  his  lass  that  thro'  the  green 
corn-fields  did  pass.'  " 


CHAPTEK  XXV. 

"Full  moon,  high  sea, 
Great  man  shalt  thou  be  ! 
Red  dawning,  stormy  sky, 
Bloody  death  shalt  thou  die." 

IN  the  wild  section  of  country  to  the  southeast  of  the  trading 
post,  and  in  a  rough  gorge  between  the  broken  hills.  Cap- 
tain Staples  had  made  his  camp  for  a  short  but  indefinite  time. 
Instead  of  going  south,  or  a  little  to  the  westward  of  south, 
as  he  would  have  done  had  he  sought  the  best  route  homeward 
from  the  fort,  he  had  travelled  due  east  for  many  miles,  and 
then  abruptly  southeast  by  south  through  a  sort  of  pass  in  the 
broken  ridges.  In  the  rocky  gorge  which  now  contained  his 
^vagons  and  animals,  he  had  halted  a  night  and  a  day.  An- 
other night  was  coming  on  apace.  The  sun  nearly  touched 
the  tops  of  the  trees  which  crowded  the  ridges  to  the  west- 
ward, and  the  clouds  in  that  quarter  of  the  sky  were  edged 
with  crimson  and  gold,  like  tents  with  royal  fringe,  for  the 
reception  of  the  retiring  day.  A  cool  breeze  blowing  from 
the  northwest  gave  some  tokens  of  freshening  into  a  gale  as 
the  darkness  came  on. 

The  captain  moved  about  his  encampment  with  an  air  of 
dogged  resolution  mixed  with  impatience.  He  spoke  neither 
to  Keeps  nor  Kirby,  and  regarded  Jagger  with  glances  which 
indicated  anger  and  contempt.  As  the  shades  fell  and  the 
loom  of  the  hills  w^as  cloaked  with  the  approaching  darkness, 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  233 

a  mounted  Indian  came  into  the  camp.  The  man  looked  fresh 
and  able  to  stand  much  greater  fatigue  than  he  had  under- 
gone, but  his  horse  had  evidently  been  ridden  fast  and  far 
since  the  dawn  of  day.  The  captain  took  the  Indian  aside, 
and  they  held  a  brief  conference,  partly  in  English  and  partly 
in  the  Choctaw  tongue.  The  first  part  appeared  to  be  very 
satisfactory  to  Captain  Staples,  but  not  the  last.  The  Indian 
either  gave  a  dogged  denial  to  some  assertion  made  by  the  old 
man,  or  met  some  proposition  of  his  with  a  flat  rejection. 

The  captain  retired  to  his  tent  and  called  for  Keeps,  who 
was  close  at  hand.  He  found  Staples  seated  on  a  bundle  of 
horse-clothes  and  buffalo  robes.  His  elbows  were  upon  his 
knees,  his  head  rested  on  his  hands,  and  with  his  hard,  dark 
face  he  looked  like  some  ugly  idol  of  the  heathen.  The  demi- 
john containing  his  "  medicine  "  was  between  his  legs.  He 
first  invited  Keeps  to  drink,  and  even  told  him  to  pour  out  for 
himself  The  henchman  speedily  made  avail  of  this  unusual 
liberality  and  confidence  by  securing  about  half  a  pint  of  the 
liquor  before  the  demijohn  left  his  hands.  It  may  be  doubted 
whether,  in  any  of  the  brawls  and  rough-and-tumble  fights  in 
which  he  had  been  engaged,  this  worthy  had  ever  gripped  a 
throat  with  more  resolution  and  tenacity  than  he  clasped  the 
neck  of  the  huge  bottle  on  this  occasion.  But,  although  the 
captain  saw  the  dimensions  of  the  dram  his  man  was  pouring 
out,  he  made  no  effort  to  check  him.  Thereupon  Keeps  maade 
up  his  mind  that  his  services  would  soon  be  in  request  for  some 
extraordinary  purpose.  After  smacking  his  lips  with  much 
satisfaction,  he  lit  his  pipe,  and  took  a  seat  opposite  his  chief, 
inw^ardly  determined  to  make  a  good  bargain  before  he  con- 
sented to  go  beyond  the  terms  of  his  engagement.  The  captain 
looked  at  Keeps  some  time  before  he  spoke.  The  henchman 
looked  at  him  in  turn,  as  much  as  to  say  :  "  We  understand 
one  another.     Out  with  it !" 

"  Keeps,"  said  Staples,  "I  believe  there  is  confidence  between 
you  and  me.  I  think  each  of  us  knoW'S  the  other  means  fair, 
between  man  and  man,  eh  ?" 

"  Ay,  ay  !  That's  all  right,  but  come  to  the  p'int.  AVhat 
is  a-going  to  put  this  confidence  on  trial  ?" 

"  You  don't  like  the  idea  of  being  robbed  by  Sassafras.  I 
think  you've  no  confidence  in  him,  and  his  way  of  grabbing 
everything,  eh,  Keeps?"  said  the  old  man,  feeling  his  way. 


234  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  As  to  grabbing,  I  never  had  the  good  fortune  to  meet  any 
of  them  excellent  people  \vhat  don't  grab  \vhen  they  have  a 
chance,  and,  speaking  in  a  general  way,  I've  got  no  confidence 
in  anybody  but  myself     You  come  to  the  p'int  at  once." 

"  Very  well !  the  point  is  this — shall  we  sit  down,  robbed 
and  swindled  as  we  are  by  Sassafras,  or  shall  we  act  in  confi- 
dence, and  take  our  own  again  ?" 

"  Who  do  you  call  we  /"  said  Keeps. 

"  You  and  me — nobody  else !  The  Englishman  is  a  fool 
and  coward,"  returned  Staples. 

"  We  found  that  out  some  time  ago,"  returned  Keeps. 

"  I  believe  we  did,"  said  Staples.  "  I  have  now,  however, 
found  something  else  out,  quite  as  much  to  the  purpose.  This 
idiot,  going  upon  his  own  conceit,  and  keeping  his  doings 
secret  from  me — I  say  from  me,  Keeps." 

"  I  hear  you.  Some  would  have  thought  he  could  not  have 
deceived  you  easily." 

"They  might  have  thought  so;  but  he  did  it,"  replied 
Staples.  "  Concealing  his  operations  from  me,  he  walks  right 
into  the  trap  set  for  him  by  Sassafras.  He  lays  a  bet  with 
this  villain  at  four  to  one  on  his  White  Horse,  by  which  he 
lost  a  thousand  guineas  to  the  villain,  and  these  golden  guineas 
Sassafras  has  got.  Think  of  it !  A  thousand  guineas  in  gold 
— coined  gold — British  gold  !     Ain't  you  astonished  ?" 

«  No,  I  ain't,"  replied  Keeps.  "  I  knew  all  about  it  before 
you  spoke  a  w^ord." 

«  You  knew  all  about  it !  Shall  I  hear  next  that  you  were 
in  with  Sassafras,  and  helped  the  villain  to  deceive  and  plun- 
der this — this " 

"  Fool  and  idiot !"  said  Keeps.  "  No,  you  won't  hear  that. 
I  knew  nothing  of  it  until  your  friend,  the  gentleman,  told  me 
all  about  it  soon  after  we  reached  this  camping-ground." 

The  old  man  paused  in  thought.  He  desired  Keeps  to  take 
another  drink.  Staples  then  said  ;  "  Perhaps  this  gentleman 
also  told  you  who  he  really  is  ?" 

"  He  did.  I  assured  him  I  must  know  everything  before  I 
could  do  him  any  good.  The  truth  is,  captain,  that  he  is 
mortally  afraid  of  you,  and  will  turn  on  you  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity. But  for  the  money  he  has  at  New^  Orleans,  and  the 
fear  that  somebody  from  England  will  lay  an  embargo  on  it, 


THE  WHITE  HOESE  OF  WOOTTOK  235 

he  would  have  left  our  jDarty  and  gone  off  with  Sassafras  to 
St.  Jo." 

Captain  Staples  relieved  his  feelings  by  a  few  round  oaths 
and  some  remarks  touching  the  ingratitude  of  mankind  in 
general,  and  that  part  of  it  with  whom  it  was  his  misfortune 
to  come  in  contact  in  particular.     He  then  said : 

"  With  all  his  foolishness,  this  fellow  is  as  big  a  rogue  as 
Sassafras  himself.  But  for  all  that,  we  must  get  back  his 
money  from  the  villain." 

The  henchman  looked  at  his  chief  with  a  cunning  and  an 
eager  eye,  one  in  which  insatiable  greed,  with  cruel  resolution 
and  abundant  craft,  shone  deadly  and  red. 

"  Yes,  we  must  get  back  this  gold  for  him."  The  hench- 
man's countenance  fell.  "  And  for  ourselves,  Keeps.  In  a 
venture  like  this  we  shall  be  entitled  to  keep  about  three- 
fourths  of  what  is  recovered." 

"  I'll  be  d — d  if  we  shan't  be  fully  entitled  to  keep  it  all. 
I  go  in  for  Keeps,  and  nothing  else,"  said  Keeps  in  reply. 
"  This  man  is  useless — not  able  to  get  a  dollar  of  it,  or  to  help 
us  in  any  way.     Then  why  should  he  have  any  of  it  ?" 

"  For  two  reasons,"  replied  Staples.  "  He  has  money  and 
means  at  Orleans,  and  he  might  make  trouble  when  he  gets 
there.     We  have  enemies  at  Orleans,  Keeps." 

"  He  may  never  get  there.  I  got  no  use  for  him  there,  if 
we  are  to  lose  a  pot  of  money  by  his  going  there." 

"  But  hear  the  other  reason.  There  is  another  very  strong 
reason  why  we  must  treat  him  as  a  partner.  It  is  this  :  Sas- 
safras is  not  the  man  to  give  up  the  gold  quietly,  or  to  rest 
easy  under  the  loss  after  it  has  been  recovered.  He'll  raise 
h — 11  from  St.  Anthony's  Falls  to  the  passes  of  the  river  below 
Orleans,  and  from  St.  Jo.  to  the  Rocky  Mountains.  The  villain 
has  many  friends.  Most  of  them  are  villains  of  his  own  stamp ! 
Now^  by  acting  in  the  name  of  Grosvernor,  Jagger,  or  whatever 
it  may  please  him  to  call  himself  next,  and  taking  the  money 
as  his  property — property  he  has  been  swindled  out  of — we 
shall  do  a  right  and  justifiable  thing,  and  public  opinion,  when 
we  reach  the  part  where  there  is  any  uncorrupted  by  Sassafras 
and  villains  of  his  character,  will  sustain  us." 

"  Yes,  but  what  will  public  opinion  say  about  our  giving  this 
man  the  money  back  ?"  said  Keeps. 


236  TEE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

"  That  is  altogether  another  matter.  Don't  you  see  that 
Jagger,  being  what  he  is,  dare  not  make  trouble  ^vith  us,  if  we 
but  have  the  name  of  a  little  law  and  right  on  our  side  ^  You 
leave  him  to  me  !" 

Keeps  was  silent.  The  old  man  watched  his  face,  and  at 
last  caught  the  cold  glitter  of  his  eye. 

"  Sassafras  will  be  hard  to  deal  with,  hard  as  the  steel  of 
this  knife,"  said  Keeps.  "  Besides,  he  may  not  have  the  gold 
with  him  upon  this  hunt.  It  may  be  left  in  the  fort  or  hid  iu 
a  safe  cached 

"  He  will — he  will  have  it !"  replied  Staples.  "  Leave  it  at 
the  fort !  why,  Keeps,  what  are  you  thinking  of?  Do  you 
think  that  I  or  that  you  would  leave  such  a  sum  at  the  fort,  or 
anywhere  else  about  these  parts,  when  we  could  carry  it  with 
us  ?  AVhy  the  fool  who  brought  it  from  England  had  sense 
enough  to  keep  it  on  his  person,  although  he  had  me  to  trust 
to.  Sassafras  has  the  money  with  him,  and  I  know  where- 
abouts he  will  be  to-morrow,  a  couple  of  hours  after  noon- 
day." 

"  And  I  know  he'll  fight  like  ten  tigers,  if  we  are  to  meet 
him  when  he  is  on  horseback  with  his  arms  in  his  hands.  That 
plan  will  never  do.  I'm  no  more  afraid  of  being  killed  than 
another,  but  Sassafras  is  a  dead  shot  and  quick  as  lightning. 
Besides,  he  will  not  be  alone." 

"You  had  better  hear  the  plan  before  you  condemn  it," 
said  Staples.  "  I  do  not  propose  the  meeting  of  him  when  he 
has  his  arms  in  his  hands.  By  striking  his  trail  an  hour  after 
he  has  passed  to-morrow,  we  may  follow  and  find  out  where 
he  will  camp.  We'll  take  him  when  he's  asleep.  If  he 
chooses  to  fight,  rather  than  give  up  the  man's  gold,  let  him 
do  it.  If  he  is  killed,  the  border  will  be  rid  of  a  villain  ; 
justice  and  law  will  be  on  our  side,  and  what  is  quite  as  much 
to  the  purpose,  we  shall  have  the  money.  Now  there's  the 
plan,  and  I  doubt  whether  anybody  can  propose  a  better  one 
as  matters  stand." 

"  This'll  be  a  tough  job,"  said  Keeps,  seizing  the  demijohn 
uninvited,  and  pouring  out  a  strong  dose  of  the  medicine. 

"  Not  so  tough  as  you  imagine,"  replied  Staples.  "  Our 
measures  will  be  well  considered.  I  have  intelligence  from  the 
Indian,  that  Sassafras  started  this  morning,  with  no  more  than 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  237 

one  man  in  his  company,  and  he  a  fellow  of  no  account.  I 
can  guess  whereabouts  they  will  camp  to-night.  To-morrow 
we  can  strike  their  trail  at  the  camp,  and  follow  it  cautiously 
until  we  find  where  they  leave  their  horses  to  begin  their  hunt. 
There  or  thereabouts  they  will  camp  to-morrow  night.  That 
being  known,  we  can  come  up  near  their  camp-fire  towards 
the  dead  time  of  night,  when  they  are  fast  asleep,  and — and 
possess  ourselves  of  this  money  without  any  trouble." 

"  Not  till  we  have  knocked  Sassafras  square  on  the  head,  or 
put  the  steel  through  his  heart — to  say  nothing  of  the  other 
man,"  replied  Keeps.  "  Who  goes  in  this  business  besides  us 
and  the  Englishman  ?" 

"  Kirby — we  must  have  Kirby.  Not  that  he'll  be  wanted 
to  do  anything  more  than  be  in  reserve,  in  case  of  accidents," 
replied  Staples. 

"  Why  not  the"  Indian  ?  He  could  do  more,  and  would 
come  cheaper  than  Kirby.  Kirby  is  not  the  man  for  this  quiet 
midnight  work,  where  the  rustle  of  a  leaf  might  spoil  all.  His 
tread  is  like  that  of  a  bull-buffalo  upon  hard  ground.  Take 
the  Indian." 

"  The  Indian  refuses  to  do  more  than  he  has  done,"  replied 
the  captain,  with  some  disgust.  "  He  is  like  all  the  rest — he 
must  ask  his  questions,  and  talk  of  Sassafras  as  if  he  was  the 
only  white  man  worth  much  on  the  border.  The  times  are 
upside  down,"  added  the  old  man,  feelingly.  "  I  have  seen 
the  day  when  that  Indian  would  have  helped  to  do  anything 
I  proposed,  no  questions  asked."  After  a  few  minutes,  proba- 
bly spent  in  silent  regret  over  the  degeneracy  of  the  age  from 
the  customs  of  the  good  old  times,  the  captain  said,  "  Kirby 
will  not  earn,  and  must  not  have,  much  of  the  money.  He 
cannot  in  conscience  ask  more  than  one,  or  at  most  two,  hun- 
dred dollars.  There  will  be  nothing  for  him  to  do,  but  to 
keep  ward,  while  you  and  I  settle  the  business." 

"  The  main  part  of  which  settlement,"  said  Keeps, "  will  de- 
pend upon  me.  Now,  it  is  a  transaction  that  ought  to  be  well 
paid  for.  It  ain't  like  killing  an  Indian  or  two,  or  making 
use  of  a  pistol  or  knife  in  a  fight  or  a  frolic.  It  requires 
talents  of  a  particular  sort,  and  nerves  of  a  peculiar  order. 
Them  talents  and  nerves,  I  may  say  witliout  boasting,  I  have 
got ;  but  I  shall  not  use  'em  for  nothing.     Besides,  look  at  the 


238  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

strain  it  puts  upon  the  conscience  to  crawl  in  like  a  wolf  at 
night  and  kill  a  good  man  asleep  upon  his  back.  You'll  allow 
Sassafras  to  be  a  real  good  man  of  his  heft  and  inches?" 

There  was  a  sort  of  low  growl  from  the  chest  of  Staples, 
who  saw  what  this  prelude,  especially  the  allusion  of  Keeps 
to  the  strain  upon  his  conscience,  was  tending  to.  He  made 
a  motion  to  the  henchman,  signifying  that  he  should  go  on. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Keeps,  "  I'll  come  to  the  p'int !  After 
the  Englishman's  and  Kirby's  shares  have  been  set  off,  there 
will  be  about  seven  hundred  sovereigns  left.  That  is  to  be 
equally  divided  between  you  and  me." 

"  I  don't  see  it  in  that  light,"  said  Staples,  with  some  show 
of  alarm  and  discontent.  "  Consider  the  trouble  and  expense 
I  have  been  put  to.  Consider  that  I  have  planned  the  thing, 
and  that  you  are  to  help  in  the  execution  of  it  only — a  mere 
trifle !  a  mere  trifle.  Keeps  !     I  could  do  it  all  myself!" 

"  You  couldn't  do  it  at  all,  and  you  know  it,"  replied  the 
henchman.  "  In  the  first  place,  you  are  a  little  afeared  of 
Sassafras,  and,  asleep  or  awake,  I  shall  have  to  deal  with  him. 
Then,  again,  you  are  getting  old  and  stiff,  and  would  be  sure 
to  rouse  him,  with  pistol  in  one  hand  and  knife  in  the  other, 
and  get  sent  to  kingdom-come  instead  of  touching  the  money. 
You  can't  get  the  first  piece  of  this  gold  except  through  me, 
and  I'm  resolved  that  the  work  which  can  only  be  done  by 
my  ability,  and  with  wear  and  tear  upon  my  conscience,  shall 
be  well  paid  for,  if  it  is  done  at  all !" 

"  Your  conscience !"  cried  Staples,  in  a  rage.  "  How  many 
men  have  you  killed  in  your  time,  conscience  or  no  con- 
science ?" 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  could  exactly  say,  because  I  have 
always  thought  that  two  who  were  shot  by  me,  in  difficulties, 
would  have  recovered  if  the  doctors  hadn't  killed  'em,  so  they 
ought  not  to  be  counted,"  replied  Keeps.  "  But  this  I  do  say, 
that  I  never  killed  a  man  when  he  was  asleep  to  get  hold  of 
money,  and  as  I  think  that  likely  to  be  a  very  difierent  thing 
upon  the  conscience  to  using  pistol  or  knife  in  a  promiscuous 
and  general  way,  I'm  determined  not  to  do  it  for  nothing.  If 
half  the  seven  hundred  isn't  enough  for  you,  fix  the  matter 
yourself,  and  count  me  out." 

The  old  man  was  furious  at  what  he  considered  the  uncon- 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  239 

scionable  greed  of  liis  accomplice,  but  as  he  could  discover  no 
means  of  getting  anything  without  the  active  aid  of  Keeps  he 
suppressed  his  rage.  He  made,  however,  a  mental  resolution 
to  secure  the  lion's  share  by  some  means  or  other,  if  it  was 
possible,  before  they  reached  the  settlements.  He  signified  his 
assent  to  the  arrangement  named  by  Keeps,  and  again  recited 
his  plan  of  action,  going  over  the  details  in  a  slow,  methodical 
way,  as  though  the  business  was  nothing  out  of  the  common 
order  of  things.  Yet  they  both  knew  and  felt  that  it  was. 
Staples  had,  in  all  probability,  been  at  midnight  massacres, 
but  it  was  in  Indian  warfare,  and  sanctioned  in  the  minds  of 
such  as  he,  as  reprisals.  Keeps  had  slain  more  than  three  or 
four  men,  but  it  was  when  they  were  upon  their  legs,  and  not 
for  money.  They  did  not  attempt  to  di^^guise  from  themselves 
the  atrocity  of  the  contemplated  deed,  but  the  magnitude  of 
the  prize  to  be  obtained  overbore  it,  and  the  younger,  but,  at 
that  day,  hardier  villain  of  the  two,  "  bent  up  each  corporal 
agent  to  the  terrible  feat." 

The  mode  of  operations  being  settled.  Keeps,  while  still  ap- 
pearing to  defer  to  the  captain  as  his  leader,  virtually  took  the 
ordering  of  affairs  into  his  own  hands.  He  wished  Staples  to 
say  nothiug  to  Kirby  or  to  Jagger.  The  less  said  the  better. 
With  any  knowledge  of  the  plan  in  hand  Jagger  would  cause 
much  trouble,  and  by  his  fears  and  foolishness  might  do  some- 
thing which  would  bring  about  its  defeat.  It  was  bad  enough 
to  have  to  pay  him,  without  letting  him  know  of  the  scheme. 
As  for  Kirby,  if  he  was  told,  he  would  be  sure  to  interfere 
with  the  carrying  out  of  the  project  when  the  crisis  of  action 
came ;  besides  which,  he  would  claim  a  larger  share  of  the 
money  than  they  designed  he  should  have  if  they  took  him 
into  their  confidence. 

"  There  is,"  said  he,  "  no  call  to  let  them  know  how  much 
we  get  when  it  is  over." 

Soon  after  it  was  day  the  four  men  mounted  their  horses  and 
rode  from  the  camp.  Kirby  did  not  care  to  ask  where  they 
were  going  or  the  object  of  the  expedition.  Jagger  was  afraid 
to  do  so.  The  old  man  led  the  way,  winding  among  the  hills, 
but  holding  a  course  as  straight  as  was  practicable  to  the  west 
of  south.  On  they  went.  Staples  never  speaking  and  Keeps 
cutting  Jagger  short  when  the  latter  attempted  to  open  a  con- 


240  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

versation  with  him.  It  was  past  the  hour  of  noon  and  their 
steeds  were  becoming  jaded,  when  they  struck  the  trail  Sassa- 
fras and  Tom  Scarlet  had  made  in  the  morning.  Keeps  gave 
it  but  a  glance  before  spurring  hastily  to  the  side  of  Staples. 

"  Trouble  is  ahead,"  said  he  in  a  whisper,  wherein  surprise 
and  ferocity  were  blended.  "  Three  horses  have  passed  here 
instead  of  two.  That  devilish  Indian  has  played  you  false. 
He  went  off  before  day  ;  he  has  joined  them,  and  Sassafras 
knows  that  we  are  upon  his  trail.  It'll  come  to  a  fight,  and 
w^e  are  but  three  to  three,  for  I  count  Jagger  less  than  nobody. 
Besides,  they'll  have  the  first  fire,  for  Sassafras  will  ambush 
us.     What's  to  be  done?" 

"  It  can't  be !"  said  Staples.  "  It  ain't  possible !  But  if  the 
Indian  has  done  this,  then  there's  no  more  honesty,  no  more 
faith  between  man  and  man,  in  this  world,  and  the  sooner  it 
goes  to  blazes  the  better.  What  I  have  done  for  that  Indian 
nobody  knows  but  me,  and  it's  past  telling,  for  my  feelings  is 
such  that  I  can't  tell  it.  I  paid  him  well  for  this  service. 
That  is,  I  promised  in  case  of  success  to " 

"That's  it,"  said  Keeps,  savagely.  "You're  so  infernal 
stingy.  Why  didn't  you  give  him  a  matter  of  twenty  or 
thirty  dollars  in  hand,  and  whiskey  enough  to  get  drunk  upon 
last  night,  and  to  keep  drunk  upon  to-day  ?  Wait  here  till  I 
come  back." 

With  this  Keeps  dismounted,  threw  his  bridle-rein  to  Staples 
and  entered  the  bushes.  He  carefully  examined  the  trail  for 
some  minutes,  passing  along  by  the  side  of  it  for  several  rods. 
AVhen  he  returned  to  Staples  his  face  had  brightened  up,  and 
he  re-inspired  the  old  man's  confidence  in  the  world,  and  the 
stability  of  things  in  general,  by  informing  him  that  one  of 
the  tracks  had  been  made  by  a  led  horse. 

They  now  pricked  ahead,  following  the  trail,  and  keeping  a 
good  lookout,  expecting  to  come  upon  some  signs  that  Sassa- 
fras and  his  companion  had  dismounted  and  hobbled  their 
horses,  to  begin  the  hunt.  But  hours  passed,  and  the  trail 
still  led  them  direct,  as  in  that  country  might  be,  for  the  Neo- 
sho river.  They  came  to  a  place  where  Keeps  and  the  captain 
could  see  that  Sassafras  and  his  companion  had  dismounted 
and  halted  to  bait  their  horses  and  refresh  themselves,  but  be- 
yond that  the  trail  again  led  due  south.     Staples  was  puzzled. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  9^1 

It  was  a  good  hunting  country,  with  plenty  of  grass  and  fine 
water.  Deer  had  been  seen  from  time  to  time,  and  with  diffi- 
culty Keeps  had  prevented  Kirby  from  firing  at  a  fine  buck 
which  presented  the  mark  behind  the  shoulder  at  less  than 
fifty  yards.  The  henchman,  after  some  thought,  reached  a 
conclusion,  and  spurred  forward  to  tell  the  old  man  what  he 
believed. 

"  Captain,"  said  he,  "  we  are  on  a  stern  chase.  Sassafras 
means  to  camp  to-night  over  the  water.  He  is  bound  right 
for  the  Neosho,  and  will  not  pull  bridle  until  his  horses  go 
down  the  face  of  the  bluff  into  the  river  to  swim  across  That's 
how  it  is." 

"  It  looks  like  it.  O,  he's  a  crooked-minded  villain,  and 
always  the  cause  of  no  end  of  trouble  to  whoever  has  any  trans- 
actions with  him !  Any  other  man  would  have  camped  on  this 
side,  and  matters  would  have  been,  in  a  measure,  easy.  What 
do  you  think  we  ought  to  do  now,  Keeps,  to  get  even  with 
him  ?" 

"  There  is  but  one  thing  to  do,"  replied  Keeps.  "  We  must 
cross  ourselves  before  night  sets  in.  We  can't  swim  it  in  the 
dark  hours.  The  bluffs  are  bold  and  high.  The  river  is  nar- 
row, swift  and  deep,  and  may  be  in  fresh,  for  it  has  looked  as 
though  there  had  been  rain  about  its  head-waters.  The  man 
and  horse  who  once  get  below  the  landing-place  on  the  other 
side  will  be  in  the  rapids,  and  never  reach  the  east  bank  alive. 
We  must  ride  as  fast  as  we  can,  to  get  to  the  stream  by  sun- 
down. Once  over,  I'll  undertake  to  find  the  camp-fire  of  Sas- 
safras, which  will  be  pretty  near  the  crossing !" 

"  Enough  !"  said  the  old  man.     *'  Let  us  go  ahead  !" 

"  One  thing  more,"  returned  Keeps.  "  If  Jagger  swims  his 
horse  over,  and  lands,  it  will  be  more  by  luck  than  judgment, 
the  river  being  high." 

"  A  terrible  peril !"  replied  Staples ;  "  for  when  he  finds  he's 
lost,  the  fool,  instead  of  taking  it  as  a  man  ought  to  do,  will 
screech  before  the  water  stops  his  mouth,  and  Sassafras  may 
hear  his  cry.  This  comes  of  acting  with  a  chicken-hearted 
follow.  I  tell  you,  Keeps,  when  this  thing  is  over,  I'll  have 
no  concern  with  anybody  but  men  like  you." 

"  As  to  his  screeching,  it  is  nothing,"  said  Keeps.  "  He 
mav  screech  as  loud  as  a  panther,  and  nobody  will  hear  him 
16 


242  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

over  the  roar  of  the  lower  rapids,  so  as  to  know  where  the  cry 
comes  from,  or  what  it  is.  Besides,  he'll  be  too  frightened  to 
screech,  when  he  finds  that  he's  a-going  down  the  river  towards 
the  roar  of  the  broken  water  below.  His  heart  will  be  in  his 
mouth,  and  all  he'll  do  will  be  to  hang  on  like  grim  death 
'round  his  horse's  neck." 

"  So  it  will — so  it  will,  Keeps  !  Let  us  go  ahead,"  said  the 
old  man,  cheerfully. 

"  I  thought  you  said  it  was  necessary  that  he  should  reach 
Orleans,"  said  Keeps. 

"  So  it  is  in  one  way,"  replied  Staples.  "  The  money  in  the 
bank  will  not  be  paid  over  without  him,  or  without  his  order." 

"  Which  you  can  get,  knowing  men  skilful  in  write  of  hand," 
replied  Keeps. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that.  Still,  if  anything  should  happen 
to  him  in  a  providential  sort  of  way,  we  shall  have  the  money 
from  Sassafras  all  to  ourselves.  It  might  be  best  for  us,  and 
would  be  different  from  what  you  proposed." 

"  I  proposed  nothing,"  said  Keeps,  "  except  that,  as  he  is 
useless  in  the  recovery  of  the  money,  it  would  be  throwing  it 
away  to  give  him  any.  However,  let  him  take  his  chance. 
It  will  be  a  poor  one  if  we  linger  longer,  and  have  to  take  the 
stream  between  daylight  and  dark.  Go  ahead  !  I  could  wish 
he  was  mounted  on  a  better  horse ;  but  in  that  case  a  good 
one  might  be  lost !     Go  ahead  !" 

While  this  hurried  conversation  was  proceeding,  the  subject 
of  it,  ignorant  of  the  probable  impending  fate  which  had  been 
so  coolly  and  heartlessly  discussed,  had  endeavored  to  ascer- 
tain from  Kirby  the  object  of  the  expedition.  He  was  hun- 
gry, weary  and  miserable.  The  burly  border  man,  revolving 
his  tobacco  in  his  cheek,  did  not  reply.  In  fact,  Kirby  was 
mentally  proposing  the  same  question  to  himself!,  and  being 
unable  to  find  any  answer,  made  up  his  mind  to  require  Keeps 
to  speak  out  v;hen  they  should  again  go  on.  But  he  had  no 
opportunity  to  do  this,  as  the  henchman  led  the  way  when  they 
started,  and  rode  rapidly,  in  spite  of  obstacles,  while  Kirby 
himself  had  to  bring  up  the  rear  in  Indian  file.  But  fast  as 
they  now  travelled,  the  sun  set  while  they  were  yet  a  mile 
from  the  river.  The  ground  now  rose  in  a  slope,  thickly  tim- 
bered, to  the  top  of  the  bluff  above  the  fast-ffowing  stream. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  243 

Keeps  and  Staples  were  now  convinced  that  Sassafras  had 
crossed,  and  was  in  the  bottom  laud  on  the  other  side  of  the 
bluifs  which  formed  the  left  bank.  There  he  would  make  his 
camp  for  the  night — the  night  they  meant  to  be  his  last.  The 
crossing  of  the  river  before  darkness  set  in  was  their  only  aim. 
Considering  that  to  be  equivalent  to  success,  Keeps  cried, 
«  Come  on  !  There  is  no  time  to  lose !  Come  on !  The  d — 1 
take  the  hindmost;  for  the- crossing  is  bad  enough  by  day  I 
Spur  on,  man !"  he  added  to  dagger ;  "  keep  at  my  horse's 
girths !  Mind  how  you  go  down  the  face  of  the  bluff,  which 
is  steep ;  and  when  in  the  water  don't,  for  your  life,  let  your 
horse  get  his  head  down  stream  !"  As  he  rode  on  he  muttered 
complacently,  "  I've  done  my  duty  by  you,  whatever  happens, 
and  more  than  many  would  have  done  under  the  circum- 
stances ;  for  if  by  following  my  advice  you  save  your  bacon 
and  get  safe  over,  I  shall  lose  about  a  hundred  and  fifty 
sovereigns  by  the  operation." 

Through  brush  and  tangled  vines,  over  the  trunks  and  arms 
of  fallen  trees,  in  the  deep  vegetable  mold  of  the  primeval 
forest,  they  forced  their  reeking  horses,  and  at  length  reached 
the  top  of  the  bluff,  high  over  the  swollen  river.  Then  broke 
upon  the  sight  of  Keeps  and  Staples  that  which  made  them 
feel  their  scheme  of  midnight  murder  to  be  abortive.  In  the 
gray  twilight  which  hung  over  the  waters,  they  saw  the  men 
they  had  pursued  and  were  themselves  seen.  Upon  a  shelf  of 
gravel,  three  parts  of  the  way  up  the  opposite  bluff,  stood  Tom 
Scarlet,  holding  the  White  Horse  by  the  rein.  Further  up, 
on  the  crown  of  it,  was  Sassafras,  between  the  other  two 
horses,  and  with  his  face  to  the  river.  As  Staples  and  his 
men  appeared  in  sight,  the  young  Englishman  hallooed  and 
stretched  out  his  arm,  while  the  more  wary  and  practised 
border  man  wheeled  one  of  the  horses  quickly,  so  as  to  cover 
his  own  person.  But  for  that,  the  rifle  of  Staples  would  have 
had  another  mark.  As  it  was,  the  furious  old  man,  shooting 
from  the  back  of  his  horse,  hit  Tom  Scarlet  in  the  head  and 
tumbled  him  into  the  river.  The  White  Horse  bounded  up 
the  bluff.  At  the  shot.  Staples,  Keeps  and  Kirby  threw  them- 
selves from  their  saddles  and  dodged  behind  the  nearest  trees. 
Jagger,  agape  with  fear  and  astonishment,  remained  gazing  on 
the  opposite  bank  for  a  moment.     In  that  moment  there  was 


244  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

a  flash,  and  before  the  report  reached  the  nearest  of  the  echo- 
ing hills,  he  fell  from  his  horse  dead.  Sassafras  had  shot  him 
through  the  brain. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

"Like  one  that  on  a  lonesome  road 

Doth  walk  in  fear  and  dread, 
And,  having  once  turned  round,  walks  on 

And  turns  no  more  his  head, 
Because  he  knows  a  frightful  fiend 

Doth  close  behind  him  tread.'' 

DARKNESS  had  nearly  fallen,  a  welcome  cloak  to  the 
living,  and  a  pall  over  the  ghastly  dead,  in  that  solitary 
place,  before  there  was  any  movement  made  on  either  side  of 
the  river.  No  sound  had  been  heard  from  the  left  bank  after 
the  tramp  of  the  White  Horse  and  the  other  two  on  that  side, 
as  they  galloped  away  when  Sassafras  fired.  AYhether  the 
latter  had  gone  after  them,  or  remained  upon  the  bluff,  was 
uncertain  to  the  three  men  in  cover  on  the  right  bank.  The 
silence  was  profound,  for  the  beasts  of  chase  and  prey  had  fled 
at  the  sharp  cracks  of  the  two  rifles.  Keeps  and  Kirby  had 
taken  cover  near  each  other,  while  the  hiding-place  of  Staples 
■was  at  a  little  distance.  The  former,  perceiving,  as  though  by 
intuition,  that  the  state  of  parties,  as  statesmen  and  politicians 
have  it,  was  likely  to  be  much  changed  by  the  late  events, 
determined  to  be  beforehand  with  the  old  man,  and  strike  up 
a  close  alliance  with  the  stalwart,  but  slow-witted  Kirby. 
With  a  view  to  that  end  he  wired  himself  silently  to  the  side 
of  the  latter,  and  whispered  to  him  such  information  concerning 
the  expedition  as  he  deemed  most  likely  to  forward  his  own 
purpose  and  prejudice  him  against  Staples.  At  length  the 
latter  believed  that  it  was  safe  to  move.  Coming  from  his 
cover,  and  calling  to  Keeps  in  a  low  voice,  he  stood  near  the 
corpse  of  the  fallen  man,  and  waited  for  his  henchman  to  rise. 
The  latter  had  now  communicated  to  Kirby  what  he  called 
the  facts  of  the  matter,  true  enough  in  the  main,  but  so  glossed 
as  to  conceal  the  truth,  that  he  had  himself  been  just  as  eager 
to  make  a  blind  tool  of  his  companion  as  Staples  was.  They 
joined  the  old  man,  and  all  three  bent  over  the  dead  body. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  245 

"which  lay  with  the  pale  face — a  small  red  hole  in  the  centre 
of  the  forehead — turned  up  towards  the  sky. 

"  He's  as  dead  as  mutton,"  said  Keeps,  with  no  more  emo- 
tion than  he  would  have  displayed  over  the  carcass  of  a  sheep. 
"  It  was  a  good  shot  and  true — killed  clean,  which  is  a  sort 
of  consolation,  for  I  hate  to  see  'em  writhing  about  in  agony, 
and  trying  to  speak  after  they  are  mortally  hit.  If  I  ain't 
killed  clean  and  dead  when  my  time  comes,  I  shall  be  obliged 
to  anybody  as  will  put  his  knife  through  my  heart.  This, 
under  the  circumstances,  was  a  splendid  shot.  I  always 
knowed  Sassafras  was  a  master  of  his  weapon.  If  there  was 
anybody  here  who  had  curiosity  on  the  p'int,  and  a  small- 
toothed  saw,  he  might  find  the  bullet  flattened  against  the 
back  of  the  skull  inside.  As  for  the  other  man,  if  anybody 
looked  for  him,  which  nobody  is  likely  to  do,  he  might  be 
found  fifteen  or  tw^enty  mile  below,  down  among  the  catfish. 
And  I'll  bet  anybody  two  to  one  he  wasn't  killed  as  neat  and 
nice  by  the  shot  as  this  one  here.  When  Sassafras  kills  with 
a  rifle  he  does  it  artistic,  and  I  have  heard  si.y  that  he  is  very 
quick  and  judgmatical  with  his  knife,  too." 

"  Hold  your  infernal  tongue,"  said  Staples,  gruffly.  "  To 
hear  you  gabbling  on  about  it,  anybody  might  think  you  was 
preaching  a  funeral  sermon.  It  was  a  cursed  chance!  just 
such  as  nobody  but  Sassafras  would  have  brought  about.  If 
I  had  shot  the  villain  himself  there  would  be  some  satisfac- 
tion." 

"Ay!  but  Sassafras  is  not  going  to  be  shot  so  easy,"  said 
Keeps.  "  He  wheeled  a  horse  before  him  quicker  than  wink ; 
and  must  have  shot  under  the  throttle  when  he  tumbled  Jag- 
ger  out  of  the  saddle.  As  you  couldn't  kill  him,  you  had  no 
right  to  shoot  at  all.  We  might  have  kept  on  their  trail,  and 
got  a  chance  to  do  something  or  another  that  would  have 
paid.  Sassafras  might  finally  have  been  settled,  and  then  we 
could  have  grabbed  the  money." 

This  seemed  to  remind  the  old  man  that  something  of  that 
sort  might  be  done  upon  a  small  scale  then,  and  had  better  be 
set  about  as  soon  as  possible.  Muttering  to  himself,  he  went 
down  upon  his  knees  as  though  about  to  pray.  But  Keeps 
knew  better  than  this,  and  watched  him  with  tiger-like  inter- 
est.    Undoing  the  coat  and  shirt  of  the  dead   man,  Staples 


246  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

quickly  removed  that  which  was  round  the  body.  He  proba- 
bly thought  that  in  the  dim  light  the  belt  would  be  unobserved, 
but  in  this  he  was  mistaken.  Weighing  it  for  an  instant  in  his 
hand,  as  if  to  estimate  the  quantity  of  the  contents,  he  proceeded 
to  secure  it  round  his  own  stout  loins.  The  performance  did 
not  meet  the  approbation  of  Keeps.  Nudging  Kirby  to  second 
him,  he  said : 

"  The  belt  which  you  have  grabbed,  according  to  what  I 
was  told  by  the  owner,  contains  a  certain  amount  of  gold. 
That  gold  must  be  turned  out  and  counted,  so  that  it  may  be 
accounted  for.  It  must  be  held  in  charge  of  all  three,  not  of 
one ;  and  we  must  each  have  a  third  to  take  care  of — eh, 
Kirby?" 

"  It  is  in  charge  now,  and  will  remain  there,"  replied  Sta- 
ples, rising  rather  hurriedly.  "I'll  take  care  of  it.  You 
needn't  trouble  yourselves  at  all.  What  you  have  got  to  do 
is  to  look  out  for  this  desperate  and  dangerous  villain.  Sassa- 
fras !" 

*'  I  think  I  had  better  look  out  a  little  for  the  carrying  out 
of  the  bargain  we  made  at  the  camp,"  said  Keeps. 

"O,  the  bargain!"  replied  Staples.  "Of  course  we  must 
stick  to  the  bargain  when  we  get  the  m^oney  Sassafras  holds. 
It  may  not  be  very  soon,  lads,  for  the  villain  has  three  horses, 
a  rifle,  plenty  of  powder  and  ball,  and  knows  the  country  we 
are  in  like  a  book.  This  trifle  of  money  I  have  taken  into 
possession  don't  come  into  the  bargain  at  all." 

"  Don't  it !"  replied  Keeps  with  an  ominous  voice.  "  Then 
it  must  be  counted  over,  and  taken  charge  of  for  the  man's 
friends." 

"  The  man's  nearest  and  dearest  friend  has  got  it,"  said  Sta- 
ples. "  He  owed  me  a  sight  of  money,  and  what  I  do  is  lawful 
and  right.  I'm  his  administrator,  executor  de  bonis  non,  if 
you  know  what  that  means !" 

"  I  can't  say  that  I  do,"  said  Kirby. 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Keeps,  "  unless  it  means  the  good  of  nobody 
but  himself     I  want  to  know  more  about  this." 

"  Bring  up  the  horses,  Kirby,"  said  Staples. 

"Don't  be  in  a  hurry,  captain,"  said  Keeps.  "When  the 
horses  are  brought  up  we  may  ride  diflerent  roads ;  for  if  you 
are  going  to  collar  everything,  and  never  say  '  turkey'  once 
to  us,  here  we  part !" 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  247 

"  If  you  want  this  gold,  or  any  part  of  it,  you  can't  have 
it,"  replied  Staples,  with  firmness  and  decision. 

"  We  don't  want  the  gold,",  said  the  veracious  Keeps. 
"Being  as  it  belongs  to  a  dead  man,  and  blood  on  every  piece 
of  it,  we  wouldn't  touch  it,  to  keep  it,  on  any  account.  It  is 
not  the  gold,  my  venerable  friend,  as  I  heard  the  preacher 
say  when  he  chiseled  you  at  seven-up,  with  aces  hid  in  his 
boots,  but  the  principle  of  the  thing !  We  want  fair  dealing 
between  man  and  man,  and  if  we  can't  have  that,  here  we 
part !  We  split  upon  the  p'int  of  honor !  D — n  the  gold ! 
Eh,  Kirby?" 

"  Certainly,  I  say  so  !"  replied  Kirby. 

"  Now,  was  the  like  ever  heard  ?"  said  Staples,  as  if  appeal- 
ing to  an  audience.  "  Honor !  I'm  the  soul  of  honor !  as 
everybody  knows  with  whom  I  ever  had  dealings.  I  don't 
think  even  Sassafras  could  deny  that.  If  ever  I  seem  to 
depart  from  the  strictest  principles  of  honor  in  my  dealings, 
it  is  when  I'm  bothered  and  pestered  by  rogues  and  fools." 

"  Who  do  you  call  rogues  and  fools  ?"  cried  Keeps,  with 
some  heat.  "  Who  put  up  a  double  cross  against  Sassafras  and 
this  man  who  lies  dead  here,  and  then  got '  coppered'  by  Sas- 
safras, and  was  beat  at  every  point  of  the  game?  You  ride 
away,  and  we  will  take  our  way." 

"  Who  is  to  bury  this  man  ?"  said  Kirby.  "  You  ought  to 
do  it,  captain,  if  you  keep  his  money." 

"Let  Sassafras  bury  him — he  killed  him,"  replied  Staples. 
"  There's  another  thing,"  he  added :  "  If  I  go  alone  I  shall 
take  all  of  these  horses  ;  they  all  belong  to  me." 

"Perhaps  you  would  like  to  take  this,  too,"  said  Keeps, 
advancing  the  muzzle  of  his  gun  until  it  was  close  to  the  old 
man's  breast.  "I  told  you  I  had  scruples  about  killing  a 
sleeping  man,  when  you  proposed  this  business  to  me.  I  now 
tell  you  that  I  shall  have  none  at  all  about  killing  you,  if  you 
will  bring  on  a  fight." 

"  It  will  not  come  to  a  fight,"  said  Kirby.  "  The  captain 
"will  go  away  and  leave  us  to  hoe  our  own  row." 

"  The  captain  might  be  followed,"  said  Staples. 

He  felt  that  it  might  be  a  good  deal  better  and  safer  to 
have  Keeps  before  rather  than  behind  him. 

"  Besides,  you  can't  get  out  of  this  country  without  my  help. 


248  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

I  brought  you  in,  and  I  only  can  take  you  out.  You  dare  not 
go  near  the  fort." 

"  We  dare  go  anywhere,"  replied  Keeps.  "  As  to  the  coun- 
try, I  know  it  about  as  well  as  you  do.  You  might  try  to 
make  it  hot  for  us,  if  you  dared  stay  in  these  parts,  but  you 
don't.  Every  minute  you  remain  here  is  worth  a  drop  of  blood 
out  of  your  heart.  The  mules  won't  be  in  your  wagons  before 
Sassafras  and  the  Indians  are  after  you,  and  they'll  never  leave 
your  trail  until  your  scalp  swings  at  Cinnamon's  belt.  Go 
your  way,  old  man  !  We  shall  be  much  safer  anywhere  than 
in  your  company.  Sassafras  and  the  chief  are  a  brace  of  true 
bloodhounds.  When  they  come  upon  you,  hand  over  hand, 
see  w^hether  that  gold  will  stop  a  ball  like  the  one  that  killed 
Jagger.     No  wonder  you  w^ant  us  to  go  with  you." 

The  truth  of  this  was  so  obvious,  as  well  as  dispiriting,  that 
the  captain  was  unable  to  reply.  He  looked  at  the  moon, 
which  had  just  risen  over  the  mountains  to  the  eastward,  and 
now  threw  a  shimmering  light  among  the  leafy  boughs  of  the 
tree-tops.  It  was,  in  one  sense,  welcome,  for  it  would  help  him 
to  pick  the  best  paths  through  his  rugged  way  ;  but  in  another 
it  might  bring  danger  and  death  upon  him,  even  before  the 
morning.  There  was  no  know  ing  what  so  bold  and  active  a  man 
as  Sassafras  might  undertake  in  a  pressing  emergency.  The 
river  was  a  very  formidable  obstacle  to  any  immediate  pursuit 
by  him,  but,  aided  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  he  might  cross 
it.  Should  he  do  so,  the  captain  would  be  well  pleased  that 
Keeps  and  Kirby  would  be  on  the  bank  to  delay,  if  not  to  kill 
him.  If  they  had  left  before  he  crossed,  their  tracks  might 
divert  his  attention  from  the  captain's  own,  and  in  this  way 
give  him  valuable  time. 

"  It  would  be  a  blessed  thing,"  muttered  Staples,  "  if  these 
three  unmitigated  villains  would  meet,  fight  a  Welsh  main 
right  here,  and  kill  one  another !" 

With  this  he  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  down  the  slope, 
not  without  misgivings  that  something  hot  and  swift  might  be 
sent  whistling  after  him  before  he  was  out  of  sight.  He  plunged 
at  once  into  the  thick  brush  among  the  largest  trees.  The 
dim,  retreating  figure  of  the  old  man  was  still  visible  to  the 
practised,  cat-like  eyes  of  the  men  behind,  when  Keeps  dropped 
on  his  right  knee,  and  levelled  his  rifle.     His  left  elbow  was 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  249 

ou  his  left  knee,  the  hand  supporting  and  steadying  the  heavy 
barrel  like  a  rest.     His  finger  was  upon  the  trigger.^ 

"  He  is  yet  in  sight,"  said  Keeps,  in  a  hissing  whisper.  "  I 
have  him  in  line  by  two  trees,  and  can  break  his  backbone  at 
a  single  shot." 

"  Hold  on  I"  said  Kirby,  catching  him  by  the  shoulder. 
The  rifle  was  fired,  but  the  bullet  flew  wide  of  the  mark 
Keeps  would  no  doubt  have  hit,  had  he  fired  without  inter- 
ference from  Kirby,  and  the  old  man  spurred  rapidly  on  with- 
out looking  round,  but  turning  short  to  the  right.  Keeps 
loaded  his  rifle,  and  seating  himself  on  the  ground,  produced 
dried  buffalo  meat  from  his  scrip,  and  desired  Kirby  to  sit 
down  and  eat. 

"You  should  not  have  grabbed  hold  of  me,"  said  Keeps. 
"  I  don't  think  I  should  have  fired,  for,  barring  the  money  in 
that  belt,  the  old  rascal  is  worth  more  to  us  alive  than  dead. 
It  is  him  that  Sassafras  will  be  after  in  the  first  place.  He 
has  heard  that  shot,  though,  and  is  just  now  considering  what 
it  can  mean.  But  no  matter  !  When  he  crosses  the  river  he 
will  do  one  of  two  things — go  northwest  with  all  speed  to  the 
fort  and  bring  up  his  Indians,  or  strike  the  trail  Staples  is  now 
making,  and  follow  it.  In  either  case  the  old  man  is  a  gone 
captain,  and  we  shall  be  safe  for  the  present.  You'll  owe  me 
another  life,  Kirby.  This  is  three  times  I  have  saved  your 
bacon." 

"  I  don't  see  that  it  h  saved  yet,"  said  the  giant. 
"  Yes,  it  is !     We  shall  jog  along  down  the  river  while  the 
hunt  goes  on  up  it.     If  we  determine  to  go  into  the  fort  we 
shall  have  a  clear  road  from  below ;  or  we  can  keep  to  the 
woods  until  from  some  Indian  or  hunter  belonging  to  the  post 
we  hear  when,  where,  and  how  Sassafras  comes  up  with  Staples 
and  kills  him.     He's  sure  to  do  so  within  four  or  five  days." 
"  And  what  then,  when  we  have  heard  it?" 
"  What  then !  why  then  we  will  send  him  word  that  we  have 
kind  of  been  on  his  side  all  along  ;  that  after  Staples  murdered 
his  friend  in  that  cowardly  manner,  and  committed  a  sort  of 
highway  robbery  upon  the  man  as  Sassafras  killed  himself,  we 
could  stand  it  no  longer,  and  fired  upon  him." 

"  We  can  tell  him  that  in  the  morning,  when  he  crosses," 
said  Kirby.     "  That  will  seem  the  most  straightforw^ard." 


250  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

"  It  might,  but  I  don't  think  it  will  be  best  to  be  about  here 
"when  the  morning  breaks.  Before  we  could  get  speech  of  Sas- 
safras, to  make  this  little  explanation,  his  rifle  would  go  off 
and  tumble  one  of  us  over,  I  would  not  give  much  in  that 
case  for  the  chance  of  the  other.  I  don't  mean  to  be  within  a 
mile  of  Sassafras,  from  this  out,  until  he  sends  me  word  to  come. 
Let  us  mount  and  ride  away." 

"  We  must  bury  this  man  somehow  before  we  go,"  said 
Kirby. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  It  was  well  enough  to  talk  of  it,  but  it 
would  be  useless  to  do  it.  We  might  put  him  in  a  crevice  of 
the  rocks  and  cover  him  with  stones  if  we  had  time  and  day- 
light, but  what  W'Ould  be  the  good ?  The  wolves  and  ravens 
would  have  him  out  piece  by  piece.  Take  all  the  tobacco  and 
powder  he  has  on  him,  and  let  him  lie.  I'll  have  his  pistols, 
and  hide  his  gun.  What  use  a  gun  ever  was  to  such  a  man 
I  could  never  make  out,  for  he  couldn't  have  hit  a  standing 
drove  of  cattle  if  there  w^as  another  man  within  half  a  mile 
who  might  be  likely  to  shoot  at  him." 

With  this  Keeps  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  slowly  away, 
followed  by  Kirby,  the  latter  leading  the  horse  which  had 
been  ridden  by  the  unfortunate  Jagger. 

While  these  events  were  passing  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
Neosho,  Sassafras  had  not  been  inactive,  though  cautious  and 
silent,  on  the  left  bank.  As  soon  as  he  had  fired  the  shot 
which  slew  Jagger,  he  threw  himself  down  and  reloaded,  let- 
ting the  horses  run.  He  then  crawled  to  the  top  of  the  bluff 
again,  and  surveyed  the  other  bank  through  the  fast-gathering 
gloom  of  the  coming  night.  All  was  still,  and  he  could  dis- 
cover nothing.  He  sighed  as  he  glanced  at  the  spot  where 
Tom  Scarlet  had  last  stood,  and  a  low  sound  escaped  from  his 
lips  as  the  roar  of  the  rapids  below,  borne  upon  the  wind  of 
the  evening,  murmured  in  his  ears.  After  a  few  minutes  spent 
in  bitter  reflection,  plans  for  a  swift  and  terrible  revenge  occu- 
pied his  mind.  Rising  cautiously  and  passing  down  the  slope 
with  swift  but  noiseless  strides,  he  soon  came  to  the  horses, 
quietly  grazing.  His  low  whistle  brought  them  to  his  side. 
The  Young  Chief  and  the  spare  horse  were  quickly  stripped 
of  their  saddles  and  bridles,  and  turned  loose.  The  White 
Horse  was  hobbled,  his  bridle  removed  and  a  blanket  strapped 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  251 

round  him  over  the  saddle.  Sassafras  then  placed  the  spare 
saddles  among  the  boughs  of  a  sapling,  and  giving  the  White 
Horse  a  good  feed  of  oats  from  the  saddle-bags,  sat  down  and 
ate  his  own  supper  ^Yhile  the  steed  consumed  his  feed.  He 
then  ascended  the  slope,  and  lay  down  upon  the  bluff.  Sas- 
safras had  not  been  long  there  when  his  quick  ear  caught  the 
sharp  voice  of  Keeps,  raised  in  the  altercation  with  Staples. 
The  silvery  moon  rose  over  the  ridge  of  the  dark  mountains, 
and  Sassafras  slid  down  to  the  level  on  which  Tom  Scarlet  had 
stood  when  he  was  shot.  The  report  of  the  rifle  followed. 
"  They  have  quarrelled,  and  there  goes  one,"  said  the  border 
man  to  himself.  "  That  was  Keeps's  rifle.  If  he  has  killed 
old  Staples  he  has  cheated  me,  before  his  own  accursed  time 
has  come!"  He  listened  intently,  but  there  was  no  further 
sound  that  he  could  catch.  "  Nobody  hit !  there  was  no 
return ;  no  screech  or  imprecation ;  no  movement  to  signify 
of  the  other  two.  This  may  be  a  plan  to  draw  me  over,  but 
I  shall  wait."  He  rolled  his  blanket  round  him,  and,  half- 
seated,  half-reclining,  fell  asleep. 

Before  the  dawning  of  the  day  Sassafras  awoke.  His  first 
thought  was  of  the  fate  of  his  lost  friend,  whose  body  had  gone 
down  the  river  into  the  furious  rapids  of  the  rocky  pass  below. 
"  Grief,"  said  he,  "  is  unavailing,  but  there  remains  revenge  ! 
I  could  almost  wish  that  I  had  been  the  man  to  fail,  only  in 
that  case  I  should  not  have  been  left  to  bring  these  two-legged 
wolves  to  their  assured  and  bloody  end."  Hs  strode  silently 
to  the  top  of  the  bluff  and  waited  until  it  was  light,  listening 
for  a  movement  or  sign  on  the  opposite  bank.  For  another  hour 
Sassafras  lay  upon  his  breast,  his  eyes  scanning  the  bluff  on 
the  other  side,  and  his  ears  alert  to  catch  any  sound  from  that 
quarter.  The  sun  rose  red  in  the  eastern  board,  above  the 
tops  of  the  blue  mountains.  The  man  turned  to  look  at  it,  and 
said,  "Ked  dawning!  there  will  be  a  storm.  Ah !"  he  ex- 
claimed, after  a  pause,  *'  here  comes  a  scout,  who  will  tell  me 
what  there  is  on  that  bank  besides  the  dead  man." 

Far  in  the  eastern  sky  Sassafras  had  seen  what  seemed  but 
a  mere  speck,  but  which  was,  in  fact,  a  large  bird  of  the  vul- 
ture tribe,  in  full  flight  for  the  river,  coming  with  eager  wings 
towards  the  body  which  lay  with  face  upturned  upon  the  bluff. 
No  very  long  time  elapsed  before  the  bird  swept  over  Sassafras, 


252  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

circled  round  once  or  twice  above  the  tree-tops  on  the  other 
side,  and  settled  slowly  down,  with  wings  half  spread,  upon 
the  dead  man's  breast. 

"  They  have  gone !  the  way  is  clear  for  me,"  said  Sassafras. 
He  caught  the  White  Horse  and  prepared  him  quickly  for  a 
long  and  rapid  journey.  The  river  was  soon  crossed.  As 
Sassafras  led  his  horse  up  the  steep  face  of  the  bluff,  the  huge 
bird  with  horny  beak  and  long,  sharp  talons  was  loath  to  leave 
its  prey,  and  screamed  defiance.  It  rose  lazily,  however,  to 
the  lower  limb  of  a  tree,  while  Sassafras  passed  hastily  down 
the  slope  without  looking  on  the  horrid  banquet  to  which  it 
again  descended.  The  single  track  made  by  Staples  was  read- 
ily found.  The  mark  of  the  bullet  jointly  fired  by  Keeps  and 
Kirby,  as  it  were,  was  noted  on  the  bark  of  a  sapling.  The 
wary  borderer  made  a  wide  circuit  from  the  beginning  of  the 
trail  towards  the  north,  round  into  the  woods,  and  back  to  the 
starting-place.  He  saw  that  Staples  had  turned  to  the  right 
after  having  been  shot  at,  but  discovered  no  sign  that  the  other 
men  had  pursued  him.  He  found,  however,  the  tracks  of  three 
horses  going  down  the  river,  just  beneath  the  high  bluff — that 
is  to  say,  on  the  slope  between  it  and  the  forest.  One  of  these 
he  saw,  from  the  way  it  had  planted  its  feet,  was  in  leading 
reins,  and  kept  close  to  the  hip  of  the  ridden  horse. 

"  They  have  quarrelled  and  parted,"  said  Sassafras.  "  The 
old  man  has  hurried  away  for  his  camp,  which  must  be  to  the 
north.  The  others  have  gone  dowm  the  river.  I  must  get  the 
chief  and  two  or  three  of  his  braves  to  hunt  down  Keeps  and 
Kirby.  Staples  shall  be  my  point.  No  man  but  me  shall 
touch  a  hair  of  his  head.     Of  the  three  not  one  shall  escape  !" 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


*' Let  the  great  gods 

That  keep  this  dreadful  pudder  o'er  our  heads, 
Find  out  their  enemies  uow  !" 

ONE  of  the  heavy  storms  which  sometimes  sweep  over  the 
great  plains  from  the  lofty  mountain  tops  of  the  north- 
west had  come  booming  down  upon  the  neighborhood  of  the 
trading  fort.     It  blew  great  guns !     The  sky  was  wild  and 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  W COTTON.  253 

ragged,  as  though  tora  by  a  convulsion,  and  at  intervals  rain 
and  hail  ^ve^e  pelted  down  in  thick  sheets,  whose  violence 
could  scarcely  be  withstood  by  those  who  were  exposed  to  it. 
The  gale  had  set  in  before  the  going  down  of  the  sun.  It  had 
freshened  hour  after  hour,  and  now,  as  midnight  approached, 
it  raged  with  increase  and  excess  of  fury.  Betimes  Antoiue 
and  Jules  had  sheltered  the  negroes  and  horses  of  their  party 
in  the  shanties  near  the  fort,  and  taken  refuge  in  the  post 
itself.  Cinnamon  and  his  Cheyennes,  after  providing  for  their 
hardy  horses  as  best  they  might,  had  betaken  themselves  to 
the  same  building.  A  large  log  lire  blazed  upon  the  hearth 
of  the  largest  room,  and  some  twenty-five  men  sat  around  it, 
some  on  chairs  and  benches,  some  on  the  floor.  The  shelter 
of  the  place,  the  heat  of  the  large  fire,  and  the  flavor  of  good 
tobacco,  and  a  little  whiskey,  were  grateful  to  all.  The  enjoy- 
ment of  these  comforts  was  heightened  by  the  howling  of  the 
wind  and  beating  of  the  hail  and  rain  outside.  At  times  the 
men  conversed  in  low  tones,  as  though  unwilling  to  be  heard 
by  the  spirits  of  the  air  who  seemed  to  carry  on  howling  war 
without.  Once  there  was  a  laugh  among  some  of  them,  but  it 
was  shortly  hushed,  as  it  seemed  to  be  taken  up  and  repeated 
in  mocking  tones  and  with  ten  thousand  times  more  power,  by 
the  wild  wind  which  swept  over  the  roof  and  along  the  walls 
of  the  stout  building. 

"  A  real  nor'wester,  this.  The  first  of  the  fall.  It  gives 
warning  that  the  pleasant  days  are  over,  except  the  short  In- 
dian summer  that  lights  winter  in,"  said  Jules. 

"  'Tis  a  gale  that  sw^eeps  over  a  wide  extent  of  country — all 
the  great  plains,"  said  Antoine.  "  What  say  you,  Cinnamon  ? 
Does  this  begin  west  of  the  Solomon's  Fork  ?" 

"  The  storm,"  replied  the  chief,  "  was  born  about  the  Hell 
Gate  Pass  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  in  the  country  of  the 
Blackfeet,  the  Crows  and  the  Sioux.  It  sweeps  around  the 
tall  peaks  which  keep  sentinel  over  the  parks,  and  gathers 
force  as  it  crosses  the  plains,  until  it  strikes  the  sides  of  the 
Ozarks.  My  people  have  gone  to  the  mountain  hollows,  but 
the  wind  and  hail  smite  my  young  men,  who  were  here  upon 
the  prairies.  Let  it  blow.  The  Indian  is  not  a  child  that 
cannot  endure  the  weather." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Jules  ;  "  but  they'll  have  a  rough  time 


254  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

of  it,  to  my  miud  ;  and  so  ^vill  Sassafras  and  his  companion  on 
the  other  side  of  the  Neosho." 

"  Sassafras  is  a  man  of  the  plains  and  woods,"  replied  the 
chief.  "  He  knows  how  to  provide  against  the  storm  and  to 
withstand  it.  He  is  in  the  timber  laud.  The  axe  hung  at  his 
saddle-bow.  The  trees  will  fall,  and  he  will  make  a  wigwam 
amoug  the  branches.  The  Golden  Bough  may  suffer,  but  he 
is  strong." 

"  For  all  that,  I  wish  they  were  here  with  us,  before  the 
fire,"  said  Miriam  Cotswold,  who,  still  attired  and  painted  as 
a  young  Kiowa,  sat  between  Cinnamon  and  Autoine,  and  a 
little  further  back  than  either  of  them.  She  had  spoken  so 
as  not  to  be  heard  by  most  of  the  company,  and  soon  added  : 
"It  is  a  fearful  night.  There  are  howls  and  shrieks  and 
moans  in  the  air,  as  if  the  fiends  had  broken  loose  and  flown 
up  to  rage  between  the  earth  and  sky.  I  with  our  friends 
were  here !" 

A  silence  followed,  broken  only  from  time  to  time  by  a 
word  or  two  among  the  men  and  the  flare  of  the  fire  as  the 
logs  blazed  on  the  hearth. 

"  Hark !"  said  Miriam,  placing  her  hands  on  the  shoulders 
of  Cinnamon  and  Antoine.  "Did  you  hear  anything?  I 
thought  there  was  a  voice  in  the  uproar  of  the  elements." 

"  I  hear  the  wolves  howl  in  the  gulches  to  windward,  no- 
thing more,"  replied  the  Frenchman. 

"  Antoine,  the  Singing  Bird  is  right !"  said  the  chief  "  There 
again  is  the  voice  of  a  man.  Sassafras  is  at  hand.  Unbar  the 
door,  and  let  my  friend  tell  us  what  brings  him  back." 

Campau  and  Antoine  sprang  to  the  door,  while  the  other 
men  rose  to  their  feet.  As  soon  as  the  fastenings  were  undone 
the  door  was  thrown  back  by  a  strong  gust,  and  the  rain  and 
hail  came  beating  in.  Another  moment  and  Sassafras  entered, 
leading  the  White  Horse.  Their  appearance  denoted  the 
hardship  of  the  journey  they  had  made.  The  man's  counte- 
nance was  dark,  haggard,  and  streaked  with  blood  from  cuts 
upon  his  cheeks  and  forehead,  made  by  the  boughs  of  trees 
and  tall  underbrush  through  which  he  had  ridden  at  a  great 
rate.  His  garments  were  torn  almost  to  tatters,  and  the  water 
streamed  from  them.  The  horse  was  covered  with  mud,  bleed- 
ing from  cuts  and  scratches,  and  evidently  very  tired.     His 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOX.  255 

nostrils  flared  out  like  the  mouths  of  trumpets,  and  he  blew  hard 
at  each  beat  of  his  powerful  heart  and  each  contraction  of  his 
muscular  chest.  Still  his  eye  was  bright,  and  he  moved  his 
lips  and  ears  as  Sassafras  removed  his  saddle  and  bridle  and 
sponged  his  mouth  and  eyes.  Until  he  had  done  this  the  man 
said  not  a  word.     He  then  exclaimed  : 

"  Jules  and  Antoine,  let  this  horse  be  looked  to,  and  well 
carad  for.  He  is  a  good  one — the  best  I  ever  rode  for  a  whole 
day  and  half  a  night  of  storm." 

His  eye  fell  upon  ^Miriam  Cotswold,  and  making  a  sign  for 
the  Cheyenne  chief  and  Campau  to  follow,  he  led  her  into  an 
inner  room.  Here,  too,  a  bright  fire  blazed  upon  the  hearth, 
and  everything  was  made  snug,  as  if  to  defy  the  storm,  and 
enable  people  to  enjoy  gently  the  warmth  and  shelter  of  a 
place  impregnable  to  the  elements.  It  was  Campau's  own 
apartment.  Cards  had  been  played  earlier  in  the  night,  for 
the  pack  lay  scattered  over  the  rough  table,  and  a  stone  jug 
of  whiskey  was  at  the  head  of  the  bunk  bed.  Sassafras  seized 
the  liquor,  and  pouring  out  about  half  a  pint,  drank  it  neat  at 
a  draught. 

"  A  little  of  that  will  do  the  White  Horse  good  as  well  as 
me,"  said  he.  "  Campau,  let  Antoine  have  about  a  pint,  and 
give  it  to  the  horse  in  as  much  water." 

"  The  horse  is  here  and  will  do  well.  You  are  here,  some- 
what weather-beaten,  it  is  true,  but  that  is  well.  Now,  where 
is  Tom  Scarlet  ?"  said  Miriam  Cotswold. 

Sassafras  shrunk  within  himself  for  a  moment,  and  there 
was  a  contraction  of  his  face,  as  if  a  pang  had  struck  his 
heart.  His  countenance  then  became  firm,  his  mouth  was  set, 
and  his  dark  eyes  flashed  in  the  light  of  the  fire.  He  answered 
with  a  stern  but  troubled  voice  :  "  I  left  him  in  the  Neosho 
river.     He  is  dead !" 

"  O,  Sassafras  !  the  fine  young  fellow  from  the  dear  old  land  ! 
You  do  not,  you  cannot  mean  it  ?" 

"  I  would  to  God  it  was  not  so,"  replied  the  border  man ; 
"  but  why  try  to  conceal  the  truth,  even  for  a  few  brief  hours  ? 
He  is  dead,  and  I  have  come  to  tell  it.  Staples  killed  him  at 
sundown  of  the  day  after  we  left  here." 

"  Has  my  friend  got  the  scalp  of  the  Wolverine  ?"  said  the 
Indian,  seizing  the  handle  of  his  knife. 


256  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

"  Not  yet,  but  he  will  have  it  before  the  moon  is  three  nights 
older,"  replied  Sassafras.  "  This  is  how  it  happened  :  We  had 
just  swum  our  horses  across  the  river,  which  was  well  up, 
nearly  in  flood.  I  was  on  the  bluff,  with  two  of  the  bridles 
in  my  hands.  Tom  was  on  a  shelf  half-way  down,  with  the 
AYhite  Horse.  All  at  once  four  men  rode  up  to  the  top  of  the 
bluff' on  the  other  side.  I  just  saw  they  were  Staples,  Keeps, 
Kirby  and  Jagger.  Tom  uttered  a  cry,  Staples  fired,  and 
down  our  friend  fell  into  the  river.  At  the  shot  Staples  and 
the  Western  men  took  cover.     I  fired  and  killed  Jagger." 

"  The  Snake-Eyes  was  no  more  than  a  squaw,"  said  the  chief. 
"  He  cannot  pay  for  the  life  of  the  fjiend  of  Sassafras  and  the 
Cheyennes.  His  scalp  is  too  little.  It  is  no  good !  I  will  go 
upon  the  war-path,  while  Sassafras  comforts  the  Singing  Bird, 
and  revenge  the  Golden  Bough." 

"  You  will.  Cinnamon,  and  so  will  I,"  said  Sassafras.  *'  The 
Singing  Bird  knows  that  our  friend  must  be  avenged.  That 
is  all  the  good  we  can  do  for  the  satisfaction  of  those  to  whom 
he  was  dear,  and  it  shall  be  done  well.  Miriam,  for  every 
tear  the  Rose  of  Hawk'll  will  shed  for  poor  Tom,  a  hundred 
drops  of  blood  shall  follow  the  bullets  and  blades  of  Cinnamon 
and  myself.  Chief,  we  will  take  horse  in  the  morning,  with 
four  or  five  of  your  young  men,  and  of  the  three  who  went 
alive  from  the  crossing  when  it  was  dark,  not  one  shall  escaj^e. 
Presently,  I  will  tell  you  which  w^ay  they  took,  and  where 
they  may  be  found." 

The  face  of  the  chief  worked  with  exultation  he  made  no 
effort  to  suppress,  and  his  eyes  glowed  like  the  live  coals  on  the 
hearth.  Whatever  regret  he  felt  at  the  untimely  fate  of  Tom 
Scarlet  was  as  nothing  to  the  ferocious  and  exceeding  joy  with 
which  he  he  heard  the  ban  of  extermination  pronounced  by 
Sassafras  against  Staples  and  his  accomplices.  Indeed,  Cinna- 
mon was  ready  enough  to  make  the  doom  much  more  sweeping 
than  Sassafras  meant  it  to  be. 

"  True,  my  friend,"  said  the  savage  warrior,  with  unbridled 
ferocity.  "  My  knife  and  the  tomahawks  of  the  Cheyennes 
have  been  dull — they  shall  now  be  sharp.  Let  Sassafras  eat 
and  rest.  My  young  men  know  where  the  Wolverine  hid  his 
wagons  in  the  hills.  Lougwind  shall  start  at  break  of  day, 
and  we  will  follow.     The  Golden  Bough  was  as  one  of  the 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  257 

Cheyennes,  and  my  friend.  We  will  avenge  him— slay  the 
slayer,  and  all  that  belong  to  his  party.  AYe  can  come  up 
with  Longwind  to-morrow  night.  The  camp  of  the  Wolverine 
we  will  then  surprise,  and  put  every  man  in  it  to  the  edge  of 
the  knife  and  axe.  The  blacks  being  disposed  of,  we  will  fol- 
low the  trail  of  the  three  whites,  take  their  scalps  and  those 
of  any  other  men  who  cross  the  war-path.  Let  Longwind  and 
Three  Scalps  come  into  this  council." 

"  Hold  !"  said  Miriam  Cotswold.  "  AVhat  have  the  negroes 
done  ?     Why  are  they  to  suffer,  poor  fellows  ?" 

"Done?"  said  the  chief;  <' they  live  in  the  tents  of  the 
Wolverine  ;  they  saddle  his  horses,  cook  his  food,  and  clean 
his  guns.  They  must  die  !  as  the  cubs  of  the  wolf,  which  never 
did  damage,  die.  Shall  Sassafras  and  the  Cheyennes  fail  to 
take  full  revenge?  Shall  the  fair  maiden  over  the  sea  be 
cheated  of  her  dues  ?  No  !  when  the  scalps  of  the  three  whites 
are  at  the  pole  of  my  tent  those  of  the  blacks  shall  hang  in  the 
smoke  of  the  pale-face  fire  at  her  father's  house.  I  would  there 
were  more  of  them,  that  she  might  say  *  It  is  good  ]'  " 

Miriam  would  have  remonstrated  further,  but  Sassafras  told 
her  quietly  that  it  was  useless  to  argue  with  an  Indian  on  such 
a  point  as  this.  He  either  could  not,  or  would  not,  make  the 
distinctions  which  were  obvious  to  all  but  savages  in  arms. 
Food  was  then  partaken  of  by  Sassafras,  and  he  related  at 
greater  length  all  his  proceedings  after  the  firing  of  the  fatal 
shot.  The  Indian  rose  and  left  the  place  of  the  conversation 
to  rejoin  his  braves  in  the  other  room,  despatch  Longwind  at 
once,  and  prepare  four  or  five  noted  for  courage,  wariness,  and 
skill  for  the  expedition.  Before  he  lay  down  in  front  of  the 
fire  to  sleep.  Sassafras  gave  his  word  to  Miriam  Cotswold  that 
none  of  the  negroes  should  be  hurt,  unless  they  took  arms  and 
joined  in  a  fight. 

The  storm  roared  on  through  the  latter  part  of  ihe  night, 
but  in  the  morning  the  shriirwhistling  of  the  wind  indicated 
that  the  heart  of  the  gale,  as  the  sailors  say,  was  broken.  ^  At 
break  of  day  there  was  a  lull ;  the  rain  ceased.  A  few  pieces 
of  pale  blue  appeared  through  breaks  in  the  thin  clouds  and 
flying  scud.  The  wind,  however,  still  blew  freshly,  shaking 
showers  of  large  drops  from  the  overhanging  boughs  of  the 
trees.  A  group  of  men  and  horses  at  a  very  early  hour  stood 
IT 


258  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

at  the  back  of  the  shanties  near  the  fort.  Four  armed  Indians 
•were  already  mounted.  Two  others  held  Indian  horses,  while 
Campau,  Pierre  Langlois,  Miriam  Cotswold,  Antoine,  Jules 
and  Black  Dick  stood  by  the  side  of  the  gray  mare,  Virginia. 
She  was  caparisoned  for  service.  The  eyes  of  Miriam  Cotswold 
and  the  men  were  cast  from  time  to  time  towards  one  of  the 
shanties  in  which  it  was  understood  the  chief  of  the  Cheyennes 
with  Sassafras  and  Three  Scalps,  one  of  the  most  daring  and 
crafty  warriors  of  the  band,  were  holding  a  sort  of  council.  At 
length  the  buffiilo  robe  which  hung  before  the  entrance  was 
pushed  aside  and  the  men  came  forth.  The  chief  led  the  van 
with  a  stately  carriage,  and  an  unsparing  glitter  in  his  hard, 
dark  eye.  He  was  in  his  war-paint,  vermilion  and  black, 
nearly  bare  to  the  waist,  and  a  necklace  composed  of  the  huge 
claws  of  the  grizzly  bear  hung  down  upon  his  breast.  The 
lineaments  of  his  countenance  were  stern,  and  his  stature 
seemed  to  be  increased  by  the  near  prospect  of  battle  and  of 
blood  as  he  strode,  rifle  in  hand,  to  his  horse.  Three  Scalps, 
the  warrior  who  followed  him,  was  neither  as  tall  nor  as 
powerful  as  Cinnamon,  but  his  frame  was  singularly  well- 
balanced,  and  his  limbs  were  all  bone  and  sinew.  The  scars 
he  bore,  and  now  showed  with  pride,  indicated  that  he  had 
been  in  some  desperate  fights.  He  was  painted  much  as  Cin- 
namon was,  and  though  his  face  was  stern  and  composed,  there 
was  no  mistaking  the  exulting  eagerness  for  blood  which  glowed 
in  his  eye.  The  borderman  followed  the  Indians  with  an  air 
of  perfect  resolution  somewhat  tinged  with  sadness.  When  he 
reached  the  group  of  his  friends  he  took  Miriam  Cotswold  by 
the  hand  and  led  her  aside. 

"  Miriam,"  said  he,  "  I  start  upon  this  expedition  to  avenge 
the  murder,  bloody  and  unprovoked,  of  your  friend  and  mine. 
Before  I  go  I  have  some  words  for  your  ear,  and,  I  hope,  for  your 
heart.  To  some  it  might  seem  an  ill-chosen  time  to  tell  you  I 
love,  and  thi;t  you  are  the  object  of  my  love  ;  but  the  moment 
to  me  is  fitting  enough.  In  the  stormy  and  fitful  hours,  when 
my  heart  was  torn  with  grief,  and  my  mind  tossed  with  schemes 
for  a  swift  and  terrible  revenge,  in  all  their  wanderings  they 
came  again  to  you  at  last.  Why  then,  when  I  am  about  to  do 
the  last  duty  by  the  dead,  should  I  not  declare  my  love  for  the 
livini^?     Can  you  accept  my  vow  and  return  one  to  me?" 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  259 

"Sassafras,"  sh6  replied,  with  much  feeling  in  her  voice, "  this 
is  sudden.  But  I  see  that  it  is  earnest,  and  I  will  be  plain. 
It  is  no  time  for  dissimulation,  nor  have  I  a  mind  to  it.  This 
hour  chosen  for  interchange  of  troth,  while  the  wing  of  the 
Angel  of  Death  casts  its  dread  shadow  upon  us,  and  you  are 
about  to  go  forth  to  take  other  lives,  might  seem  ominous  of 
evil  instead  of  happiness ;  but  I  am  a  daughter  of  the  dwell- 
ers in  the  tents,  and  you  are  a  hunter  and  armed  rover  of  the 
frontier.  We  may  not  woo  as  the  wrens  woo  among  the  early 
rose-leaves,  nor  coo  like  the  ring-doves  in  the  bosky  copse. 
All  we  can  ask  from  each  other  is  truth.  Mine  I  pledge  till 
death,  by  the  great  God  who  sees  our  hearts,  and  from  his 
starry  throne  rules  all  the  races  of  the  world,  the  children  of 
men !" 

"  Thanks,  Miriam  !  I  will  be  true  to  you,  as  the  sun  to  the 
west  from  his  rising  in  the  east,  whether  under  clear  and  pleas- 
ant skies,  or  in  cloud  and  storm !"  said  Sassafras.  "  My  mind 
now  springs  again,  and  my  heart  leaps  to  meet  the  duty  of  the 
hour.  The  Indians  are  ready.  We  go,  and  it  is  done!  I 
shall  strike  harder,  quicker  and  surer  now  than  ever  before. 
Love  and  revenge  will  inspire  and  guide  the  blows !" 

"  But,  Sassafras,"  said  the  girl,  earnestly  and  hastily,  "  as 
you  love  me,  and  we  honor  the  dead  whose  loss  we  deplore, 
see  to  it  that  none  but  the  guilty  fall.  The  negroes  of  Staples's 
camp  are  clear  of  the  deed,  and  you  must  save  them.  The 
chief,  once  mild  and  kind,  is  now  all  the  savage ;  and  in  the 
fearful  battle-paint  of  his  tribe  has  no  more  feeling  of  mercy 
nor  reason  than  the  tiger  w^ho  scents  blood  on  the  wind  of  the 
jungle.  Sassafras,  I  do  not  ask  you  to  spare  Staples  or  Keeps, 
but  when  the  frightful  war-whoops  ring  in  the  night,  see  that 
the  guiltless  negroes  are  unharmed." 

"  I  have  provided  for  it.  There  will  be  no  night  attack, 
and  I  will  bring  them  off  harmless,"  he  replied. 

"  Further,  Sassafras,  husband  and  lord  that  is  to  be  !  until 
you  are  certain  that  he  deserves  the  doom,  let  not  Kirby  die. 
He  had  probably  no  hand  in  the  murder,  no  knowledge  of  the 
plot.  Antoine  and  Campau  and  Pierre  Langlois  say  so. 
Therefore,  spare  him !" 

"  It  may  not  be  !"  said  Sassafras,  firmly.  "  Miriam,  he  was 
ihere,  art  and  part  with  the  others !    The  negroes  shall  be 


260  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

saved.  Not  a  hair  of  their  heads  shall  be  touched,  unless 
they  take  arms  to  fight  for  one  who  has  been  a  hard  task- 
master to  them.  Staples  will  be  my  mark.  The  warrior  who 
was  with  me  and  Cinnamon  in  the  hut,  and  another  Cheyenne, 
will  go  with  me,  while  the  chief  and  the  other  three  Indians 
will  make  for  the  Neosho.  'We  shall  find  Staples  in  his  camp 
or  on  the  move  with  his  train,  and  then " 

"  What  then  ?"  said  she,  as  he  paused. 

"  Then  he  dies  on  sight !"  he  exclaimed,  while  his  color 
rose  and  his  eye  dilated.  "  This,  Miriam,  is  the  doom  and 
justice  of  the  border.     He  is  already  as  one  of  the  dead." 

"  The  man  is  old.  I  could  wish  some  other  hand  than  yours 
might  send  him  to  his  long  and  last  account." 

*'  Miriam  Cotswold,"  said  Sassafras,  "  if  he  lives  to  be  much 
older,  they  shall  call  me  liar  and  coward.  I  and  no  other 
will  execute  justice  on  him  who  treacherously  slew  my  friend. 
I  must  shoot  the  fatal  shot  or  strike  the  blow  !  To  what  end 
should  I  leave  this  to  either  of  the  two  Indians,  who  will  be 
with  me  ?  If  there  were  no  other  reason — and  there  is  one 
that  is  all-powerful — the  safety  of  the  negroes  demands  this 
from  me.  The  Cheyennes,  both  tried  warriors,  will  be  like  blood- 
hounds in  the  slips.  If  either  kills  Staples,  and  swings  his 
reeking  scalp,  with  the  whoop  of  the  tribe,  I  shall  not  be  able 
to  hold  the  hand  of  the  other  ;  and  there  will  be  carnage 
while  one  of  Staples's  men  remains  alive.  To  guard  against 
some  such  thing  as  this,  I  have  persuaded  Cinnamon  to  go 
south  after  Keeps  and  Kirby,  for  in  that  quarter  there  is  no 
one  else  to  kill.  And  now,  Miriam,  wife  and  part  of  my  life 
that  is  to  be !  farewell  for  a  while.  The  Indians  look  towards 
us." 

"  Yet  stay  !  another  word  !  Is  there  no  hope  that  poor  Tom 
may  be  wounded,  but  yet  alive  ?" 

"  There  is  none.  If  there  had  been,  think  you  that  I  would 
have  left  the  river  ?  He  fell  headlong,  no  doubt,  shot  through 
the  brain,  and  so  unconcious  of  what  killed  him.  Besides,  if. 
he  touched  the  water  alive,  he  was  swept  down  into  the  rapids 
and  there  an  end !  Had  there  been  one  chance  in  a  thousand 
for  his  life,  I  had  not  been  here  now." 

"  I  feel  it !  I  know  it !"  she  said.  "  But,  oh !  if  the  remains 
could  be  recovered  and  decently  interred,  it  would  be  a  con- 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  261 

solation  to  us  in  after  times  and  to  his  friends  at  home.  The 
Indians,  hot  for  blood,  caring  nothing  for  what  lies  cold  in  the 
river,  will  make  no  search  until  their  ire  is  glutted.  Shall 
nothing  be  done  ?" 

"There  is  reason  in  what  you  say,  though  the  hope  of 
finding  his  body  is  vain,  I  fear.  Still,  the  last  slight  chance 
shall  not  be  thrown  away.  Antoine  shall  go  with  Cinnamon 
and  his  men  to  the  Neosho,  and  make  the  searching  of  the 
rocks  and  shallows  his  special  object.  Tell  him  to  saddle  the 
best  horse  aud  ride  after  us.  He  may  easily  overtake  us  ere  I 
and  Cinnamon  part.     Miriam,  good-by !" 

With  this  Sassafras  folded  her  in  his  arms,  and  held  her  for 
a  moment  to  his  brawny  breast.  In  another  instant  he  sprang 
to  the  saddle  of  the  stout  gray  mare,  and  the  party  rode  away. 

"Haste,  haste,  Antoine!"  said  the  gypsy.  "Saddle  your 
horse  aud  overtake  them.  You  are  to  go,  too.  Nay,  Antoine, 
Jules !  saddle  two  horses.     I  will  go  myself  with  Antoine." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

"Heigh,  bo!  sing  heigh,  ho  !  unto  the  green  holly: 
Most  friendship  is  feigning,  most  loving  mere  folly. 
Then  heigh,  ho  !  the  holly  \" 

IT  was  the  day  before  Christmas,  and  preparations  for  the 
proper  celebration  of  the  great  Christmas  festival  were 
beins:  made  in  all  the  hamlets,  mansions,  farm-houses  and  cot- 
tages  about  Wootton,  Ridingcumstoke  and  the  Vale  of  Ayles- 
bury. "  Store's  no  sore,"  was  the  motto  of  the  neighborhood, 
as  well  as  of  Justice  Greedy,  and  much  provision  of  substance 
and  luxury  was  being  laid  in.  At  a  shop  in  the  nearest  mar- 
ket town  there  was  a  small  assemblage,  at  once  grave,  critical 
and  jovial,  exarainiug  the  stock  of  the  tradesman  who  owned 
and  kept  it.  Now,  it  was  a  butcher's  shop — a  place  certain  to 
be  esteemed  low,  if  not  vulgar,  by  those  who  affect  artificial 
perfumes  and  driuk  absinthe.  The  butcher,  however,  is  a  man 
whose  calling  is  held  in  some  esteem  by  the  nations  who  keep 
Christmas  in  the  Scandinavian  and  Anglo-Saxon  manner. 
Besides,  neither  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle,  John  Bullfinch,  nor  the 
other  worthies  who  looked  on  while  the  butcher  bustled  about, 


262  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

whistling,  "  O,  the  Roast  Beef  of  Old  England !"  cared  for 
any  perfumes  but  such  as  came  from  bunches  of  violets,  rose- 
buds, lavender,  bean  blossoms  and  the  like.  As  for  absinthe, 
none  of  them  had  ever  heard  of  it,  and  all  of  them  would 
have  repudiated  it  as  a  beverage  if  they  had  tasted  it. 

The  butcher's  shop  was  in  truth  a  very  clean,  fresh,  whole- 
some place,  and  the  joints  of  beef  and  mutton,  artistically  cut 
by  the  butcher,  and  trimmed  with  holly  and  ivy  by  his  wife, 
looked  as  handsome,  and  more  eatable,  than  so  many  clever 
pictures.  The  butcher's  round,  red  face  shone  like  the  berries 
on  the  holly  boughs  as  he  slapped  the  joints  with  his  long  knife, 
and  related  the  history  of  each  ox  and  wether  which  had  con- 
tributed to  his  Christmas  show.  Mr.  Cleaver  spoke  of  the 
animals  as  he  might  have  done  of  old  friends,  and  no  wonder, 
for  while  the  Christmas  beasts  he  intended  to  purchase  were 
in  the  course  of  feeding  on  the  farms  of  their  owners,  it  was 
his  custom  to  visit  them  about  once  a  fortnight,  to  handle  them 
and  report  progress  to  his  wife,  his  journeymen,  and  his  prin- 
cipal customers.  A  few  of  these  last  had  been  invited  to  look 
in  that  morning,  chief  among  whom  were  Sir  Jerry,  John 
Bullfinch,  and  another  good  man  and  true,  who  had  not  yet 
arrived.  The  butcher  was  bustling  and  important,  often  look- 
ing down  the  street,  as  if  rather  impatient  for  the  coming  of 
the  other  man.  The  baronet  ventured  a  remark  upon  the  beef 
and  the  Cotswold  mutton,  to  which  Mr.  Cleaver  replied  by  say- 
ing: 

"  They  was  all  good,  Sir  Jerry,  this  year — all  excellent  good. 
They  all  died  well,  full  of  fat,  and  they  have  cut  up  well.  My 
Christmas  beasts  always  do.  But  there's  one  extro'nary  animal. 
He  died  better  and  has  cut  up  better  than  any  fat  beast  I  ever 
had  before.  I  mean  the  red  ox  fed  by  Mr.  Southdown,  who 
ought  to  have  been  here  before  now.  Here  he  comes,  however. 
He's  a  pictur'." 

It  was  never  exactly  settled  whether  ihis  last  sentence  re- 
ferred to  the  ox  or  the  yeoman  who  fed  him,  for  the  greeting 
extended  to  the  man  was  so  hearty  and  noisy,  that  no  oppor- 
tunity for  explanation  offered,  and  the  ox  was  momentarily 
forgotten  by  all  but  his  best  friend  and  ardent  admirer,  the 
butcher. 

Mr.  Southdown  was  a  man  of  great  stature  and  bulk,  nearly 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO K  263 

as  big  himself  as  a  moderate-sized  ox  of  the  Highland  blood. 
He  strode  along  with  ponderous  tread,  vast  but  not  fat,  in  a 
blue  coat,  drab  breeches,  leather  leggings,  and  a  low-crowned 
hat.  Instead  of  a  riding-whip  he  carried  a  stick  of  tough 
ground-ash.  Mr.  Southdown  was  a  man  of  mark  in  those 
parts.  A  man  of  many  acres,  arable  and  pasture.  A  man 
of  money.  Crisp  bank-notes  carried  in  a  bulky  pocket-book 
and  bright  sovereigns  in  a  yellow  canvas  bag.  A  man  of 
strong  opinions  and  few  words.  He  was  as  great  a  stickler  for 
the  landed  interest,  and  Church  and  King,  as  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle 
and  John  Bullfinch  themselves,  but  it  w^as  in  his  own  way,  not 
in  theirs.  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  was  sometimes  eloquent  in  his  de- 
clamations on  these  topics,  from  sheer  force  and  plain  sense. 
John  Bullfinch  was  apt  to  be  disputatious.  Mr.  Southdown 
was  neither  eloquent  nor  disputatious.  It  was  not,  as  he  said, 
worth  his  while.  His  mind  was  made  up  !  He  cared  nothing 
for  radicals  or  revolutionists !  "  Argeyment"  was  of  no  use 
in  such  matters — nothing  but  a  waste  of  words  !  Could  the 
radicals  argey  the  elm  trees  out  of  his  pastures  ?  or  the  oaks 
out  of  his  spinneys  ?  That  was  what  he  wanted  to  know  ! 
Being  of  a  solid  temper,  and  with  a  voice  like  the  boatswain 
of  a  line-of-battle  ship,  Mr.  Southdown  usually  succeeded  in 
putting  down  the  radical  bagmen  and  tradesmen  he  encoun- 
tered. The  only  people  who  ventured  to  argue  with  him  were 
his  youngest  daughter,  Margery,  and  her  particular  friend 
Young  Jack. 

"  Servant  all,  gentlemen,"  said  he.  "  This  looks  like  Christ- 
mas. I  left  my  missus  and  daaters  making  plum-puddings 
and  mince-pies,  as  is  but  reason.  Well,  Cleaver,  what's  said 
to  this  here  beef?  If  anybody  says  there's  better  beef  in 
Lunnon,  or  in  Windsor  Castle,  or  anywhere  else,  he's  wrong. 
I  shan't  argey  the  question  with  him,  but  he's  wrong  !" 

"  Cleaver  never  had  a  better  show,"  said  Sir  Jerry.  "And 
he  says  your  red  ox  is  the  best  that  ever  was  seen  here,  or 
hereabouts.     He  ought  to  know  !" 

"  If  he  says  that,  he  don't  know,  Sir  Jerry,"  replied  South- 
down. "  In  his  father's  time  there  was  a  bullock  killed  by 
him,  called  the  Great  Ox  of  Hawk'ell,  which  was  fed  by  John 
Bullfinch,  and  it  was  the  biggest  ever  seen  in  England,  except 
the  Durham  Ox.     We  must  knock  under  to  the  Durham  Ox, 


264  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

though  I  have  ray  doubts  whether  the  northcountrymen  didn't 
give  short  weight  when  they  made  up  the  report." 

"  Gentlemen  all !"  said  the  butcher,  "  I  remember  the  Great 
Ox  of  Hawk'ell  well.  He  w\as  bigger  than  this  one,  but  this 
one  was  riper,  and  died  better." 

"  I  shan't  argey  the  p'int,"  Mr.  Southdown  roared.  "  You 
can't  get  rid  of  the  Hawk'ell  ox  by  argeyment.  My  counsel 
was  took  by  John  about  feeding  him  towards  the  last,  and  we 
made  him  the  greatest  ox  ever  seen,  as  well  as  the  best,  if  the 
northcountrymen  gave  in  short  weight.  Cleaver,  you're  wrong. 
That  settles  it." 

"  I  ought  to  be  heard  about  this,"  said  the  butcher.  "  Being 
in  the  trade,  I  have  the  right  to  an  opinion." 

"  Sir,  you  have  no  right  to  argey  from  opinions.  I  fed  the 
red  ox,  and  I  won't  argey  the  p'int  at  all.  I,  being  correct, 
decline  to  argey.     You,  being  wrong,  have  no  right  to  argey  !" 

"  O,"  said  the  butcher,  "  you  haven't  seen  the  prime  parts 
of  the  red  ox  at  all." 

Mr.  Southdown  was  about  to  interpose  another  protest,  but 
the  butcher  bawled,  "  Now,  missus !"  and  missus  entered.  It 
was  the  butcher's  wife,  comely  and  rosy,  deft  at  curtseys  and 
pleasant  smiles,  and  with  red  ribbons  among  the  laces  of  her 
cap.  Together  they  drew  a  white  sheet  from  something  it 
covered,  and  there  lay  the  sirloins  and  prime  ribs  of  the  red 
ox  in  all  their  massive  beauty.  On  one  sirloin  the  name  of 
Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  appeared  in  red  holly  berries  on  the  rich, 
yellow  fat  of  the  back.  The  other  bore  that  of  John  Bull- 
finch. One  side  of  the  mighty  ribs  was  marked,  in  like  man- 
ner, Richard  Southdown. 

"  Now,"  said  the  butcher,  "  I  call  that  a  pictur' !" 

"I  know  but  little  about  pictur's,"  replied  Mr.  Southdown, 
except  pictur's  of  live  cattle.  You  may  see  the  pictur'  of  tlie 
great  ox  in  John  Bullfinch's  parlor  at  Hawk'ell,  done  by  a  man 
who  needed  but  a  little  knowledge  of  the  p'ints  and  beauties 
of  a  bullock  or  a  horse  to  make  him  the  finest  painter  that 
ever  was  seen  in  England.  Pie  done  the  Black  Hoi*se  at  Ayles- 
bury. I  don't  mean  done  the  landlord  out  of  his  score  for 
drink,  but  done  the  pictur'  of  the  horse  on  the  sign.  As  to 
this  beef,  I  call  it  capital  beef,  as  good  beef  as  ever  was  in 
England,  save  the  beef  of  the  great  ox  of  Hawk'ell." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  265 

The  baronet,  John  Bullfinch,  and  the  others'  complimented 
Mr.  Cleaver  and  his  wife — the  former  upon  the  appearance  of 
the  beef,  and  the  latter  upon  her  own.  The  conversation  was 
still  going  on  in  loud  tones  when  Young  Jack  drove  up  with 
a  spring  cart,  which  seemed  to  be  already  well  laden  with 
divers  boxes  and  hampers.  The  sirloin,  together  with  many 
pieces  of  beef  of  about  ten  pounds  each — cut  by  the  knife  of 
Cleaver  at  Christmas  time  for  a  man  like  John  Bullfinch — 
a  ten-pound  piece  ahvays  weighed  from  twelve  to  fourteen,  and 
this  was  so  much  the  better  for  the  laborers  and  ^vidows  with 
families,  to  whom  they  would  be  given  at  Haw^kwell.  The  beef 
being  loaded,  the  cart  went  down  upon  the  springs.  Young 
Jack,  touching  his  hat  to  Sir  Jerry  and  Mr.  Southdown,  and 
favoring  the  butcher's  wife  with  an  agreeable  nod,  resumed 
the  reins. 

"  Drat  that  boy !"  said  Mrs.  Cleaver,  as  she  retired  smiling, 
while  John  Bullfinch  said  : 

"  Hold  on !  what  have  you  got  ?'* 

"  Everything  !"  replied  his  son. 

"  Everything  means  nothing,  sir.  You  give  straightforra'd 
answers  when  gentlemen  are  in  company.  Mention  what 
you've  got." 

"  "Well !"  said  Jack,  "  there's  change  for  a  five-pound  note 
in  shillings — one  apiece  for  the  children  on  Boxing  Day. 
Change  for  another  in  half-crowns — one  apiece  for  the  lassies 
and  lads.  A  lot  of  tea  and  sugar  for  the  old  women.  Tobacco 
for  the  old  men.  A  box  with  a  sight  of  toys,  and  a  hamper 
from  the  confectioner's,  ordered  by  May.  A  saddle  and  bridle, 
ordered  by  May  and  me." 

"  A  saddle  and  bridle !  and  who's  that  for  ?  Sir  Jerry,  my 
daater  and  son  do  nearly  as  they  like  at  Christmas  time,  and 
for  a  man  of  my  means,  they  are  good  givers." 

Sir  Jerry  nodded  and  smiled.  Mr.  Southdown  gave  a  por- 
tentous wink,  and  shook  his  stick  at  Y^oung  Jack. 

"  Who's  that  saddle  and  bridle  for  ?"  said  John.  Seeing  that 
his  son  hesitated,  he  added  :  "  Come  !  you  needn't  be  afraid  to 
speak  out.     I  insist  upon  being  told." 

"  Then  don't  you  tell  him  !"  said  Mr.  Southdown.  "  I  mean 
to  encourage  in  my  godson  no  disrespect  to  his  father,  but  '  I 
insist  upon  being  told'  is  a  species  of  argeyment  not  to  be  tol- 


26G  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK. 

erated.  It's  like  what  goes  on  at  the  Fox  and  Grapes,  when 
one  of  the  fellows  that  t^pout  against  the  Land  and  the  Con- 
stitution, winding  up  with  an  impertinent  question,  says,  'I 
insist  upon  being  told.'  " 

Sir  Jerry  laughed  and  John  Bullfinch  laughed.  He  then 
said,  "  Well,  I  believe  you  have  named  everything  and  for- 
got nothing — go  on.  Stay !  by  George !  you've  forgot  the 
brandy.  We  should  be  ruined  at  twelve  to-night  past  remedy 
without  the  brandy  !" 

"  The  brandy  !"  replied  Jack,  "  I  declare  I  had  forgot  the 
brandy.  I'll  stop  for  it  as  I  go  by.  It  was  Parkins  put  it 
clean  out  of  my  head,  with  a  story  that  Tom  Scarlet  was  killed 
in  America." 

"  Tom  Scarlet  killed  !  Sir  Jerry — Southdown — did  you 
ever  hear  the  like  of  this  ?" 

"  An  idle  tale,  no  doubt,"  said  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle.  "  Parkins 
could  have  no  news,  good  or  bad,  of  Tom  Scarlet  before 
I  had.     I  took  measures  to  get   news  of  him  three  months 

ago-" 

"  That  settles  the  p'int !  Parkins  knows  nothing,"  said  Mr. 
Southdown. 

"  Ay  !  but,  gentlemen,  Sir  Jerry  has  been  unable  to  get  any 
news  of  Tom,  and  that  looks  bad,"  said  Young  Jack. 

"  Jack,"  said  Mr.  Southdown,  doggedly,  "  when  you  was  a 
baby  being  christened,  I  stood  godfeyther.  I  shan't  argey 
with  you.  Lady  Snaffle  stood  May's  godmother — she  may 
argey  the  p'int  with  her,  if  she  pleases.  I  say  it's  all  settled. 
Sir  Jerry  is  right.  Parkins  is  a  conceited  lellow  and  knows 
nothing !" 

"  Give  me  leave  for  a  moment,"  said  Sir  Jerry.  "  Now, 
Master  Jack,  who  is  said  to  have  killed  Tom  Scarlet  ?" 

"  The  Indians,  Sir  Jerry." 

"AVhat  for?"  cried  John  Bullfinch. 

"To  eat  him,  Parkins  says." 

"  Parkins  is  a  fool,"  cried  John.  "  Eat  him !  why,  it's 
unnatural.  And  besides,  haven't  we  heard  that  there's  mil- 
lions of  buffaloes  in  that  country?  Who  would  prefer  Tom 
Scarlet  to  beef?" 

Mr.  Southdown  shook  his  head.  He  had  no  faith  in  buf- 
falo beef.     No  faith  in  American  beef  of  any  sort.     No  faith 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  267 

in  any  beef  but  that  of  the  cattle  bred  and  fed  in  and  about 
the  pastures  of  the  Yale  of  Aylesbury.  The  Indians  might 
have  had  bufialo  beef,  but  still  wanted  a  change.  "  I've  heerd 
tell  of  such  things,"  said  he. 

"  Master  Jack,"  said  Sir  Jerry,  "  I  believe  nothing  of  this 
story  which  you  have  heard  from  Parkins,  and  I  charge  you 
to  say  nothiug  of  it  to  your  sister.  John  Bullfinch,  my  old 
neighbor  and  friend  f  if  such  a  thiug  had  happened  I  should 
have  heard  of  it  before  Parkins.  Three  months  ago  there 
came  a  brief  notice  to  me  from  America — that  if,  I  accepted 
the  steeple-chase  match  offered  by  the  Duke  for  any  horse 
hunted  in  the  midland  counties  last  year,  gentlemen  riders.  I 
could  Vv^in  it.  The  match  was  made.  Tom  Scarlet  was  in  the 
Indian  country  when  he  sent  that  message  to  me,  but  he  was 
on  good  terms  with  the  Indians,  and  his  business  there  was 
ended.  The  message  was  one  in  trust,  and  faithfully  brought 
to  me  by  the  purser  of  an  American  ship." 

"  That's  good  news,  Sir  Jerry  !"  said  Young  Jack.  "  And 
besides,  if  your  honor  pleases,  we  should  have  heard  from  the 
American  who  took  Tom  into  the  Indian  country,  if  anything 
had  happened  to  him.  Everybody  who  knows  that  American 
says  he  is  a  good  man." 

"  The  suggestion  is  good.  Jack ;  but  who  does  know  him  ?" 
said  the  baronet. 

"  Well,  sir,  the  sailor  Cox  and  Gypsy  Jack.  Jack  says  that 
the  American  is  a  first-rate  man.  But  Parkins  says  he  knows 
better,  having  had  it  from  a  sure  hand." 

"  I'd  give  a  pound  if  Gypsy  Jack  was  here,"  said  John 
Bullfinch,  in  much  perplexity.  "  He  knows  as  much  about 
this  American  business  as  anybody.  Besides,  he'd  tell  me 
what  to  say  at  home.  It's  nearly  impossible  for  me  to  keep  a 
secret  from  my  daater,  May,  without  help,  and  I  fancy  she 
isn't  as  hearty  like  as  she  was  last  spring-time." 

"  You  must  not  mention  it  to  her  on  any  account,"  said  Sir 
Jerry.  "  It's  ten  to  one  there  is  no  truth  in  it.  I'll  give  any- 
body a  sovereign  to  lay  me  ten  to  a  hundred  on  it.  Parkins 
always  has  evil  tidings  to  tell  of  somebody.  Where  did  he 
get  this,  Jack?" 

"  From  three  tramping  sailors  who  were  in  the  lock-up  at 
Aylesbury  yesterday  evening." 


268  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOX. 

"  These  men  were  discharged,  no  doubt,  this  morning,  on 
account  of  their  being  sailors,"  said  Sir  Jerry.  "  Which  way 
were  they  travelling  T' 

"  Towards  London.  They  had  come  from  Liverpool,  and 
told  Parkins  they  should  join  a  King's  ship  at  the  Nore." 

"  Ay,  ay  !"  said  Sir  Jerry.  "  Very  few  of  those  fellows  ever 
reach  the  fleet,  though.  Kow,  John  Bullfinch,  these  sailors 
I'll  overtake  before  night,  and  hear  what  their  story  really  is, 
and  upon  what  it  was  founded.  I'll  send  word  to  Lady  Snaffle 
that  business  calls  me  away  to-day.  Ride  over  to  the  Hall 
after  your  Christmas  dinner  to-morrow,  and  I'll  tell  you  all 
about  it.  Kot  a  word  to  your  daughter  on  any  account  until 
after  I  return." 

With  this  the  baronet  mounted  his  horse  and  was  about  to 
set  off  at  a  great  pace.     But  Mr.  Southdown  interposed. 

"  One  word,"  said  he.  "  In  Cjuestioning  these  sailors,  keep 
it  dark  that  you  be  a  magistrate.  You  may  as  well  burke  the 
baronet,  too.  But  let  'm  know  that  her  ladyship,  your  honor's 
wife,  is  daughter  of  an  admiral — one  of  IS^elson's  fighting 
captains  at  the  Nile  and  Trafalgar.  Sir  Jerry,  you'll  find  th" 
of  more  use  than  any  amount  of  argeyment.  Sailors  don't 
like  argeyment.  My  mind's  made  up  on  the  main  p'int.  Tom 
Scarlet's  alive  and  well.  But  as  you're  going  to  overhaul 
these  sailors.  Sir  Jerry,  keep  the  magistrate  and  the  baronet 
in  the  background,  and  bring  forward  the  admiral's  daughter." 

Mr.  Southdown  delivered  this  in  his  most  impressive  manner, 
and  accompanied  it  by  some  heavy  blows  from  his  stick  upon 
the  butcher's  horse-block.     Then  Sir  Jerry  rode  away. 

When  John  Bullfinch  reached  home  he  found  that  his  son 
had  got  there  before  him.  The  Christmas  presents  had  been 
unloaded  and  put  away.  May  had  finished  the  decorations 
of  the  rooms  for  the  coming  eve.  The  last  sprig  of  ivy  and 
the  last  bunch  of  holly  had  been  put  up,  and  the  bough  of  the 
mistletoe  of  the  oak  had  been  hung  in  the  centre  of  the  ceiling 
of  the  largest  room.  By  the  hearth  lay  the  great  oak  log 
which  was  to  be  burned  that  Yule,  and  which  might  keep 
aglow  for  about  a  week  in  its  own  ashes.  IMay  Bullfinch  was 
paler  and  thinner,  and  her  expression  more  thoughtful  and 
subdued  than  before.  Her  father  was  ill  at  ease.  He  had 
agreed  to  ride  with  her  to  the  Grange  that  afternoon,  and  the 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  269 

rumor  he  had  heard  as  to  the  fate  of  Tom  Scanet  made  it  a 
very  unpleasant  and  embarrassing  arrangement.  He  ordered 
her  horse,  however,  to  be  brought  out,  and  after  luncheon  they 
set  off  together.  The  day  was  raw  and  cloudy.  The  father, 
in  no  mood  for  conversation  just  then,  knew  no  better  way  of 
avoiding  it  than  by  riding  fast,  and  they  cantered  rapidly  on, 
almost  without  a  word  until  the  Grange  and  its  farm  buildings 
were  in  sight.  The  strong,  old  stone  house,  with  the  dark  yew 
trees  standing  by  it,  as  they  had  stood  for  two  hundred  years 
and  more,  looked  gloomy,  but  the  reception  within  was  cheerful. 
A  large  fire  had  been  lighted  in  the  parlor,  and  the  crimson 
curtains  at  the  old-fashioned,  diamond-latticed  windows  relieved 
the  sombreness  of  the  dark  oak  wainscoting  and  carved  furni- 
ture of  antique  pattern.  The  housekeeper,  an  old  gentlewoman, 
some  distant  relative  of  Tom  Scarlet's  father,  placed  cake  and 
wine  upon  the  table,  and  invited  them  to  partake  of  it.  She 
had  hoped  Tom  himself  would  have  been  home  again  by 
Christmas,  but  she  had  received  no  news  of  him. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Euth,"  said  May,  "  we  have  not  come  to 
eat,  and  news  was  scarcely  to  be  expected  here.  Have  your 
men  provided  the  holly  and  ivy?" 

"  Yes,  miss,  and  a  fine  lot  of  it.  Every  room  in  the  house 
is  trimmed  with  it  but  this.  This,  by  your  recj[uest,  was  left 
for  you." 

'<  Thank  you  !  A  glass  of  wine,  and  then  I'll  begin  work." 
The  boughs  were  brought  into  the  room  by  a  shock-headed 
lad,  who  had  often  been  threatened  by  Moleskin  with  imprison- 
ment for  trespassing,  and  by  Parkins  with  the  stocks  for  small 
offences  and  disrespect  to  the  "  authorities."  As  he  threw  down 
the  ivy  and  the  splendid  holly  boughs,  thick  with  berries,  very 
large  and  very  red,  the  shock-headed,  yellow-haired  youth 
made  a  shy  bow  towards  May  and  shot  a  glance  of  dubious 
expression  at  her  father.  John  Bullfinch  did  not  perceive  it. 
"  That's  wonderful  fine  holly,"  said  he.  "  It  beats  what  we 
have  at  Hawk'ell  all  hollow,  and  I  saw  none  in  town  this 
morning  half  as  good.     Where  did  you  get  it,  Joe  ?" 

There  was  no  Joe  to  answer  this  question,  for  the  shock- 
headed  youth  had  stepped  on  the  mat,  and  gone  out  as  softly 
and  quickly  as  could  be.  Well  he  might.  That  very  morn- 
ing the  gardener  of  a  rector  in  an  adjacent  parish,  upon  whose 


270  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

lawn  there  were  some  holly  bushes  of  uncommon  beauty,  was 
astounded  at  finding  that  the  finest  boughs  had  been  cut  in 
the  night,  and  carried  off'. 

May  Bullfinch  was  soon  busy  with  the  decoration  of  the 
room. 

"  Father,"  said  she,  "  if  he  should  come  home  to-night  or 
to-morrow,  or  any  day  before  the  new  year  begins,  he  will  be 
glad  to  find  this  room  prepared  as  it  used  to  be.  The  bare 
walls  would  be  cheerless  welcome." 

John  groaned  in  spirit,  and  knew  not  what  to  reply.  As 
she  continued  her  task,  he  stood  and  looked  on,  making  no  re- 
mark, but  wishing  it  was  over.  The  last  thing  to  be  adorned 
was  a  picture  of  Tom  Scarlet  on  a  white  pony,  painted  when 
he  was  a  boy.  The  finest  sprigs  of  holly,  the  ones  with  the 
largest  and  richest  berries,  were  reserved  for  this.  As  May 
stood  upon  a  chair  to  set  the  picture  off  with  the  little  boughs, 
her  father  wore  some  such  expression  as  he  would  have  had  at 
the  dressing  of  a  corpse.  At  last  it  was  done.  The  old  lady, 
Mrs.  Ruth,  declared  that  the  room  was  beautiful,  especially 
the  picture.  "But,"  said  she,  "you  have  put  no  ivy  on  his 
picture,  Miss  JNIay." 

"  No ;  it  is  a  plant  of  the  damp  and  shade." 

"  Ay,  it  minds  one  of  the  cold  churchyard,"  returned  the 
old  lady. 

"  While  the  bonny  holly,"  said  May,  "glows  like  the  fire  of 
the  Yule  log  upon  the  hearth,  and  the  red  Christmas  wine." 

"I  must  stop  this,"  said  John  Bullfinch.  Then  aloud, 
"  May,  ray  dear,  the  way  is  long,  and  the  day  is  almost  done. 
Let  us  say  good-by  to  Mrs.  Ruth." 

"  Go,  father,  I  will  follow." 

The  farmer  and  the  housekeeper  went  out  of  the  room  to- 
gether. May  knelt  just  under  the  picture  and  said  the  Lord's 
Prayer.     Then  she  joined  her  father. 

Mr.  Bullfinch  was  unable  to  leave  the  Grange  as  soon  as  he 
expected.  A  turning  movement  was  executed  upon  his  flank, 
and  his  retreat  was  cut  off,  so  to  speak,  by  an  old  inmate  of 
the  Grange.  It  was  the  hunting  groom.  Straddles  by  name, 
who  now  accosted  him,  and  made  a  request  that  he  should 
visit  the  stable? 

"  What,  is  there  something  wrong,  Straddles  ?  Anything 
lame?" 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  271 

"  No,  sir  ;  nothing  of  the  kind.  I  only  want  you  to  see  that 
things  ai'e  in  order,"  replied  Straddles.  "  He'll  find  his  hunt- 
ers fit  to  go  to  the  meet  and  take  part  in  a  hard  run,  if  he 
comes  home  to-morrow.     You  come  and  see." 

"  Go,  father.     I  should  like  to  see  myself,"  said  May. 

The  horses  were  examined,  and  John  pronounced  them  all 
right. 

"  So,"  said  he  to  Straddles,  "  you  look  for  Tom  before  the 
hunting  season  is  over,  do  you  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  do  !  My  own  opinion  is  he'll  be  here  before 
another  week  is  over ;  but  it  ain't  an  event  to  bet  upon.  He's 
uncertain  as  to  time,  but  sure  in  the  end.  I  have  lived  at  the 
Grange  above  fifty  year,  and  I  ought  to  know  the  Scarlets. 
Tom  is  a  Scarlet  all  over.  You  can't  say  just  when  he'll  come, 
but  you  can  say  that  he  will  come." 

"  Straddles,"  said  May,  "  perhaos  vou  can  say  when  you  ex- 
pect him." 

"  I  can,  miss,"  replied  Straddles  confidently.  "  I  expect  him 
every  hour.  He  may  come  at  any  moment.  There's  a  box 
kept  done  up  for  the  horse  he'll  bring.  There's  hot  water 
kept  ready  to  make  a  bucket  of  gruel  for  him  ;  for  ever  since 
he  was  a  boy,  and  even  then,  Tom  has  always  been  a  hard 
rider." 

The  confidence  of  the  old  man  infected  May  and  her  father. 
The  evidence  of  the  box  kept  in  order,  and  the  hot  water 
ready  to  make  gruel  for  the  tired  horse,  seemed  to  John  to 
outweigh  anything  which  might  have  fallen  from  roving  sail- 
ors, and  had  come  through  Parkins.  Besides,  the  old  man 
put  the  finishing  stroke  by  an  allusion  to  Sir  Jerry  Snafile's 
great  match. 

"  He  may,"  said  he,  "  be  detained  for  a  week  or  two  more. 
The  wind  is  east  at  present.  But  he's  sure  to  be  here  to  ride 
Sir  Jerry's  horse,  in  the  match.  That's  the  latest  moment, 
and  that's  in  March.  Mr.  Bullfinch,  Tom  will  ride  Sir  Jerry's 
horse,  and  the  duke  will  lose,  as  sure  as  his  duchess  wears 
strawberry  leaves.  We  may  not  beat  him  in  the  horse,  but 
we  shall  in  the  rider.  They  can't  bring  a  man  here  that  can 
ride  over  our  stiff  country  like  Tom  Scarlet." 

"I  don't  believe  they  can,  Straddles,"  cried  John.  "By 
Jove,  if  this  comes  off,  what  a  time  we'll  have  at  Hawk'ell !" 


272  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  I  wish  he  had  come,  or  that  he  will  come  this  week,"  said 
Straddles,  "  not  that  it  matters  to  the  match,  but  Tom  is  a 
youDg  mau  of  a  kind  heart,  and  the  poor  will  miss  him  this 
Christmas." 

"  Send  the  poor  to  me.  Every  mother's  son  and  daater  that 
could  have  had  a  gift  from  him,  you  send  to  Hawk'ell.  Am  I 
right,  May?" 

"To  be  sure,  dear  father.  As  to  Tom,  everybody  likes 
him." 

"  My  dear,  everybody  don't  like  him.  Parkins  don't  like 
him.  Sir  Jerry  made  that  remark  this  morning,  and  it  ac- 
counts for — eh ! — Straddles,  he's  sure  to  be  here  in  time  for 
the  match,  is  he?" 

"  Sure  to  come,  and  sure  to  win.  You  put  your  money  on 
as  soon  as  Sir  Jerry  has  got  his  on,"  said  Straddles,  assisting 
May  to  mount  her  horse. 

"  I'm  so  glad  we  came  here.  That  Straddles  is  a  sensible 
man,"  said  May,  as  they  cantered  away,  while  the  shock- 
headed  lad  was  still  looking  intently  at  the  half-crown  she  had 
left  in  his  hand  as  he  put  the  reins  in  hers. 

"Ay!  a  knowing  fellow,"  said  John.  "Sir  Jerry  will  be 
glad  to  hear  of  this,  May.  I'll  go  over  to  the  Hall  to-morrow, 
after  dinner,  and  tell  him  all  about  it.  It's  five  o'clock,  and 
that  nag  of  yours  is  lazy — send  him  along !" 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

"Duncan  Grey  cam'  here  to  woo,  • 
Ha,  ha!  the  wooing  o't. 
On  blithe  Yule  night,  when  we  were  fa'. 
Ha,  ha  !  the  wooing  o't." 


"Ye  gypsy  gang  that  deal  in  glamour, 
And  you,  deep  read  in  hell's  black  grammar. 
Warlocks  and  witches." 

JOHN  BULLFINCH  and  his  daughter  had  left  Hawkwell 
on  their  way  to  the  Grange  but  a  short  time,  when  a  vis- 
itor arrived  at  the  farm,  who  received  a  very  cordial  welcome 
from  Young  Jack.  They  had  not  been  acquainted  many 
weeks,  but  the  visitor  was  in  high  favor  with  the  lad,  and  not 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  273 

without  some  reason.  In  the  first  place,  he  was  young ;  in 
the  next,  of  high  birth  and  station ;  third,  he  was  very  frank 
and  courteous;  and  last.  Young  Jack  had  been  able  to  do 
him  a  favor,  and  confer  distinction  upon  him  in  the  hunting 
field.  He  was  tall,  slender,  with  a  high-bred  look,  and  he  was 
mounted  on  a  superb  gray  hunter.  The  young  man's  com- 
plexion was  fair,  his  hair  was  brown  and  curly,  his  eyes  were 
a  rich  hazel,  and  he  had  not  a  shade  of  beard  or  whisker.  His 
age  was  about  two-and-twenty,  but  he  looked  much  younger, 
and  this  was  a  matter  of  some  annoyance  to  the  heir  of 
the  Doomsdays,  one  of  the  wealthiest  and  most  powerful  of 
the  noble  families  in  the  kingdom.  Often,  as  Lord  Doomsday 
surveyed  his  very  handsome  face  and  fine  figure  in  the  glass, 
he  turned  away  with  impatience,  because  of  his  boyish  appear- 
ance. He  commonly  hunted  in  Leicestershire  and  ]!^orthamp- 
tonshire,  in  which  counties  his  father  possessed  large  estates, 
but  this  season  he  had  given  much  of  his  time  to  the  hounds 
of  Sir  Jerry  Suafile  and  those  of  the  famous  Heythrop  Hunt. 
He  had  soon  become  passably  well  acquainted  with  John 
Bullfinch,  whose  sterling  character  and  worth  had  been  made 
known  to  him  by  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle,  the  major,  and  some  other 
gentlemen  of  the  neighborhood.  Moreover,  he  had  formed  a 
habit  of  blushing  and  raising  his  hat  to  the  farmer's  daughter, 
May,  whenever  she  appeared  at  the  meet  by  her  father's  side, 
which  was  hardly  as  often  now  as  it  had  been  the  season  before. 
True  it  is,  too,  that  Lord  Doomsday's  horses,  somehow  or  an- 
other, got  to  know  the  road  to  Hawkwell,  and  took  him  there 
of  their  own  accord,  at  times,  when  he  was  out  for  exercise  on 
non-hunting  days.  When  John  was  at  home  the  young  man 
talked  with  him  on  such  subjects  as  hunting,  shooting,  the 
landed  interests,  and  the  turf — especially  the  last.  The  Dooms- 
days had  been  great  breeders  of  thoroughbred  horses  ever 
since  the  time  of  Queen  Anne,  and  the  family  was  held  in 
especial  esteem  by  John  Bullfinch,  because,  through  the  union 
of  Waxy  and  Penelope,  early  in  the  nineteenth  century,  it 
had  produced  the  ever-famous  Whalebone  blood.  To  these 
conversations  May  and  Young  Jack  commonly  listened  with 
interest.  Sometimes  John  Bullfinch  was  not  at  home  when 
the  vouno;  man  called,  and  then  Youno;  Jack  entertained  him 
with  his  notions  of  hunters,  hounds,  race-horses,  &c.,  to  which 
18 


274  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

the  young  nobleman  listened  with  courtesy,  although  he  rather 
preferred  conversation  with  May  Bullfinch  upon  the  usual 
topics  of  the  country  side  at  that  season — the  weather,  parties, 
balls,  the  coming  Christmas,  subscriptions  to  charities,  &c. 
The  young  man  was,  of  course,  well  educated ;  he  was  well 
informed  on  general  subjects,  and  his  abilities  were  good,  as 
those  of  the  men  of  his  house  always  had  been.  But  his 
youthful  looks  and  his  extreme  diffidence,  not  to  say  bashful- 
ness,  kept  him  back  in  general  society,  and  many  mistook  his 
shyness  and  modest  reserve  for  haughty  pride  of  birth  and 
prospect  of  future  succession  to  immense  estates.  He  felt  much 
more  at  his  ease  in  the  presence  of  Farmer  Bullfinch,  his 
daughter  May  and  his  son  Jack,  than  in  that  of  the  gentry 
of  the  provincial  town  where  he  kept  his  hunters.  The  ful- 
some flatteries  of  some  annoyed  him.  He  drank  but  little, 
and  gambled  none  at  all.  He  was  too  reserved  to  mingle 
much  in  the  general  society  of  the  place,  and  hated  flirting 
and  gossips.  John  Bullfinch  and  his  daughter  treated  the 
young  man  with  the  greatest  respect  and  some  deference,  but 
no  sycophantic  observances.  He  stayed  to  tea  sometimes,  as 
the  long  nights  of  the  winter  season  set  in.  Once  or  twice, 
when  Lord  Doomsday  called  at  Hawkwell,  neither  John  Bull- 
finch nor  Young  Jack  was  at  home,  and  on  being  told  this  by 
May,  the  young  man  appeared  to  be  very  little  disappointed, 
and  declared  that,  as  he  had  nothing  else  to  do,  he  would 
wait,  if  Miss  Bullfinch  would  be  kind  enough  to  permit  him 
to  do  so.  As  a  matter  of  course,  John  Bullfinch  held  that 
Lord  Doomsday's  visits  to  Hawkwell  were  on  his  account. 
Perhaps  May  Bullfinch  doubted  this.  The  young  man  him- 
self could  scarcely  have  told  what  the  object  of  his  visits  was, 
but  he  knew  that  he  liked  to  make  them,  and  thought  that 
was  enough.  Young  Jack  was  sure  that  the  young  nobleman 
came  to  see  him,  arguing  in  this  way :  "  With  all  his  talents, 
his  noble  family,  his  good  looks,  his  great  estates,  the  Whale- 
bone blood,  his  splendid  hunters,  and  his  beautiful  horseman- 
ship, he  is  bashful.  Now,  in  ray  company  he's  got  no  more 
call  to  be  bashful  than  I  have  in  his ;  besides,  1  put  him 
through  in  the  great  run  from  Fringford  Gorse,  when  we  beat 
the  whole  field,  and  huntsmen  and  whippers-in  to  boot."  The 
fact  was  that  Young  Jack,  one  day  after  Lord  Doomsday's 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N.  275 

first  visit  to  his  father's  house,  had  galloped  to  his  side  as  the 
fox  went  away  from  Friiigford  Gorse,  and  said,  "This  is  a 
noted  fox,  and  we  shall  have  a  great  run.  If  your  lordship 
pleases,  you  had  better  keep  \\\i\\  me." 

"  But  you  are  not  taking  the  line  of  your  father,  Sir  Jerry, 
the  major  and  the  other  gentlemen." 

"  No,  my  lord,  I  am  not.  I  am  taking  another  line.  The 
gentlemen  would  take  it,  too,  if  they  could  conveniently,  but 
they  can't.  They  are  heavy  weights,  and  the  old  and  middle- 
aged  don't  care  to  tackle  it.  We  are  light  weights  and  young." 
"  I  say,  young  Bullfinch  !  I'm  not  as  young  as  I  look,"  said 
Doomsday. 

"  My  lord,  that's  the  case  with  me.  I  don't  get  credit  for 
my  real  age.  It's  a  disadvantage  at  the  start,  my  lord,  but  by 
and  by  we  shall  get  over  it.  Take  a  strong  pull,  my  lord. 
Your  horse,  good  as  he  is,  wall  need  all  his  power  to  go  through 
some  of  the  bullfinches  presently.  They  are  every  bit  as  big 
and  stout  as  those  in  Northamptonshire." 

"  You  have  been  over  this  line  before,  but  suppose  the  fox 
heads  away  to  the  right — w^e  shall  be  thrown  out." 

"  But  he  won't  head  to  the  right,  my  lord.  I  know  this  fox. 
He  w^as  hunted  four  times  last  season.  After  the  last  of  the 
four  runs  I  w^as  shown  over  this  line  by  the  best  hand  in  the 
Midland  counties,  and  it's  the  one  to  take  for  those  who  are 
light  in  the  saddle  and  on  good  horses.  Now,  here's  the  first 
of  the  raspers.  Let  me  go  first,  please,  my  lord,  and  give  your 
horse  a  lead  over." 

Young  Jack  was  on  Young  Cowslip,  and  soon  she  w^ent  driv- 
ing through  the  upper  part  of  the  whitethorn  and  blackthorn 
fence.  Lord  Doomsday  followed,  and  then  they  went  on  across 
another  large  pasture  field,  the  dairy-ground  of  a  great  farm. 
"  Now,  my  lord,"  said  Jack,  "  you  can  tell  by  the  cry  that  the 
hounds  incline  to  the  left  all  the  time,  and  that  our  line  is  the 
shortest.  If  the  Fringford  Gorse  fox  runs  as  usual,  and  his 
time  is  come  to-day,  there'll  be  hardly  anybody  in  at  the  death 
but  you  and  me.  So  much  for  knowing  the  country  well,  and 
being  able  to  negotiate  it.  I  was  shown  this  line  by  Tom 
Scarlet,  the  best  ten-stone  man  in  England.  He  pounded 
your  lordship  once,  I  have  been  told." 

"  He  did ;  and,  what  is  more,  young  Bullfinch,  it  was  not 
the  fault  of  my  horse,  but  my  own." 


276  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N. 

"  Ah,  my  lord  !  there  are  few  like  you.  Most  of  the  others 
that  were  pouuded  that  day  bore  malice  agaiust  Tom  because 
he  did  it.  Tom  has  told  me,  my  lord,  that  you  were  not  really 
pounded  by  him,  but  by  the  presence  of  the  others.  '  Jack,' 
said  he,  *  young  Lord  Doomsday  will  be  one  of  the  best  riders 
in  England  some  of  these  days.  Mark  my  words.  Jack.  He 
comes  of  a  riding  family,  and  his  only  fault  now  is,  that  he's 
too  modest.'  Perhaps  that's  my  fault,  too,  my  lord.  But  here 
we  are  at  another  splitter.  Let  us  take  it  side  by  side,  with 
plenty  room  between." 

The  situation  of  affairs  at  the  end  of  the  run  was  this — the 
hounds  pulled  down  tha  Fringford  fox  in  the  middle  of  a  grass 
field,  within  a  mile  of  Woodstock,  in  the  Heythrop  country. 
Lord  Doomsday,  Young  Jack,  and  a  shepherd  boy  were  the 
only  ones  present  to  give  the  death-halloo.  The  huntsman 
and  one  of  the  whippers-in  came  through  the  gate  soon  after, 
their  horses  dead  beat.  After  them  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle,  the  Irish 
major,  and  John  Bullfinch  followed.  The  young  nobleman 
almost  blushed  at  their  hearty  congratulations.  Not  so  Young 
Jack,  for  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Gentlemen,  if  you  please,  his  lordship  and  I  did  it,  by 
means  of  being  light  weights,  young,  well-mounted,  and  fol- 
lowing Tom  Scarlet's  favorite  line.  If  his  lordship  is  too  mod- 
est to  have  proper  credit  given  him  in  the  county  paper  when 
the  account  of  this  run  appears,  it'll  be  a  great  pity,  and  I 
think " 

"  Hold  your  tongue  !"  roared  John.  "  I  wish  you  was  half 
as  modest  as  Lord  Doomsday,  I  do.  For  cheek  you  are  un- 
common. What  do  you  mean  by  haranguing  the  gentlemen 
in  that  style,  eh  ?" 

<'  O,  well !"  said  Jack,  "  I  only  thought  it  wasn't  the  habit 
of  the  heavy  weights  in  this  hunt  to  begrudge  the  light  weights 
— that  is,  begrudge  a  young  nobleman — the  proper  praise  when 
he  was  the  only  man  in  at  the  death.  I  know  Sir  Jerry's  too 
much  of  a  man  to " 

A  burst  of  laughter  from  Sir  Jerry  and  the  major,  in  which 
the  huntsmen  joined,  cut  short  Young  Jack's  second  harangue 
on  behalf  of  Lord  Doomsday,  and  prevented  the  reproof  which 
rose  to  the  lips  of  his  father. 

Therefore  Jack  had  some  reason  to  think  that  Lord  Dooms- 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  211 

day's  visits  to  Hawk  well  were  made  with  a  view  to  see  him, 
and  ou  the  day  in  question  he  met  his  lordship  with  a  bow,  a 
smile,  and  a  joyful  exclamation.  To  Lord  Doomsday's  ques- 
tions he  replied  that  his  father  was  out,  his  sister  was  out,  too, 
and  he  should  have  been  out  himself  if  his  lordship  had  been 
ten  minutes  later.  He  was  going  to  ride  to  the  sheepfold  under 
the  hill  by  the  mill,  on  the  outskirts  of  their  land,  and  hoped 
Lord  Doomsday  would  ride  with  him,  as  he  could  show  him 
the  holt  of  an  otter  and  a  plump  or  two  of  wild  ducks.  His 
lordship  hesitated — he  had  come  just  to  say  good-by  to  Jack's 
father  and  his  sister,  as  he  was  going  home  to  Northamptonshire 
to  spend  the  Christmas  week  at  his  father's.  The  earl  made 
it  a  point  that  they  should  all  be  home  for  the  Christmas  din- 
ner. He  must  be  at  Brackley  that  night,  and  jide  home  from 
thence  in  the  morning.  Very  well !  Jack  would  deliver  his 
lordship's  message  to  his  father  and  sister,  and  would  show  him 
that  the  green  lane  by  the  fold  under  the  hill  was  the  nearest 
way  to  the  Barleymow,  from  which  he  could  take  the  Brackley 
road.  As  one  of  his  men  had  gone  to  Brackley  with  a  spare 
horse.  Lord  Doomsday  agreed  to  this  proposition,  and  they 
jogged  merrily  along,  leaping  the  gates  and  fences  instead  of 
taking  the  roads.  Suddenly,  after  a  thoughtful  silence,  during 
which  he  had  paid  no  attention  to  Jack's  free  and  easy  chatter, 
the  young  man  exclaimed  : 

"  I  say,  young  Bullfinch,  I  take  you  to  be  the  happiest  boy 
in  these  parts." 

"  Well,  my  lord,  I  am  tolerably  well  off  for  a  boy,  although 
I  consider  that  I  don't  get  full  credit  for  my  age  and  real 
experience.  Besides,  I  should  be  more  pleased  if  Tom  Scarlet 
was  home  again.  When  he  gets  home,  if  he  does  get  home, 
we  shall  have  a  jolly  time." 

"  You  say  '  if  he  gets  home.'     Is  there  any  doubt  about  it  ?" 

"  Why,  yes,  my  lord  ;  there  is  a  report — a  sort  of  a  rumor 
— that  he  has  been  killed  in  America — the  Western  parts, 
above  a  thousand  miles  from  New  York.  But  I  don't  believe 
it.  Neither  does  Sir  Jerry,  who  has  gone  to  overtake  the 
sailors  who  reported  it." 

"  Does  your  sister  know  of  this  report  ?"  said  Lord  Dooms- 
day, earnestly. 

"  No,  sir ;  she  does  not,  and  she  isn't  to  be  told  until  we 
have  found  out  that  it's  all  a  lie." 


278  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

The  young  inan  was  thoughtful.  He  pulled  his  horse  to  a 
slow  trot,  and  then,  lookiug  down  upon  the  hunter's  mane  and 
withers,  he  said :  "  There  is  auother  report.  People  say  that 
this  Mr.  Scarlet  is — not  engaged  to — but  in  love  with  your 
sister.  Do  you  think  he  is  the  sort  of  man  to  make  your 
sister  May  happy  ?" 

"  The  very  man,  my  lord.     Why  not  ?" 

"  I  do  not  exactly  know,  and,  at  any  rate,  I  need  not  tell 
until  you  have  found  out  that  his  reported  death  is  false.  My 
opinion  of  your  sister  is  that  she  is  in  mind,  manners,  disposi- 
tion, and  person  a  very  superior  young  lady  It  is  not  every 
man  who  can  ride  well  and  pound  people  that  is  worthy  of 
her." 

It  was  now  the  turn  of  Young  Jack  to  look  at  his  horse's 
mane. 

"  I  know  that  your  lordship  has  no  spite  against  Tom  Scarlet 
because  he  pounded  the  field.  You  do  not  know  Tom  as  well 
as  I  do,"  said  he.  "  I  have  known  him  a  great  many  years, 
young  as  I  look.  He  taught  me  to  ride  before  he  came  into 
the  property.  My  lord,  I  know  all  about  him  ;  he's  the  best 
ten-stone — I  mean  he's  as  good  a  young  man  as  there  is  in 
these  Midland  counties.  Ask  my  father  and  Sir  Jerry  and 
the  major  when  you  come  back.  As  for  May,  she  is  the  best 
and  dearest  sister  in  the  world,  except,  perha]5s,  your  lordship's 
own  sisters." 

"  You  need  not  except  them  ;  they  are  married,  young  Bull- 
finch," said  Lord  Doomsday,  "  and,  good  as  they  are,  I  cannot 
say  that  I  very  much  admire  their  husbands.  You  need  not 
mention  that  we  had  any  conversation  about  Mr.  Scarlet.  But 
in  telling  your  flither  that  I  called,  you  may  say  that  I  have 
great  regard  and  esteem  for  him  and — and — your  sister." 

With  this  he  pricked  his  horse  with  the  spur,  and  after  a 
few  good  strides  leaped  the  fence  into  a  lane.  Jack  followed, 
and  at  sight  of  a  string  of  donkeys  exclaimed:  "Halloo!  what 
now?" 

It  was  the  cavalcade  of  three  or  four  families  of  gypsies, 
with  terrier  dogs  and  lurchers,  women,  girls  and  boys  on  foot, 
and  children  in  the  panniers  of  the  asses. 

"  What  now  !  young  squire !  You  may  well  say  what  now ! 
Why,  here  be  we,  Christmas  eve  a  coming,  turned  out  of 


TEE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N.  279 

the  copse,  where  we  was  as  snug  as  rabbits  in  their  burrows, 
and  made  to  move  off,  the  Lord  knows  where,  by  Parkins,  the 
constable.     May  the  d — 1  fly  away  with  him !" 

The  speaker  was  a  handsome,  bold-looking  woman  of  the 
tribe.  Hair  thick  and  glossy,  black  as  the  wing  of  a  raven. 
Eyes  large  and  deep  jet.  Figure  tall,  but  apparently  very 
agile,  with  long  sinewy  arms.  Her  skirts  were  short,  and  she 
wore  a  scarlet  cloak,  as  did  all  the  other  women  and  girls. 
She  led  the  foremost  donkey.  In  one  pannier  there  was 
a  chubby  child  some  year  and  a  half  old,  in  the  other  a  brace 
of  twins  of  some  six  months,  who  sat  up  and  put  Lord  Dooms- 
day out  of  countenance  by  the  steady  stare  of  their  four  bright 
eyes  as  black  and  round  as  beads. 

"  Where  are  the  men  ?"  said  Jack. 

"  ^len !  wdiy  where  they  always  be  when  wanted.  They're 
off  down  in  Northamptonshire,  Whittlebury  Forest  way." 

"  Not  on  a  poaching  expedition  I  hope,  Kose  ?"  said  Jack. 

"  Poaching !  Good  Lord !  young  Bullfinch,  who  ever  heard 
of  any  of  our  people  poaching  ?  I've  three  brothers  in  the 
King's  service." 

"  Ay,  but.  Rose,  one  of  them  serves  in  a  King's  ship,  and 
the  others  at  Botany  Bay." 

"  And  the  d — 1  take  them  that  sent  boys  like  them  to  the 
Bay.  But  the  two  have  done  well  in  New  South  Wales.  They 
own  more  sheep  than  your  father  and  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  to  boot, 
and  ride  good  horses,  young  Bullfinch,  though  it's  I  that  say 
it  in  this  green  lane  and  not  so  much  as  a  haulm-stack  to  lay 
the  kinchins  to  the  lee  off." 

"  Well,  Rose,  I  know  my  father  would  not  have  you  wan- 
dering about  this  afternoon  if  he  knew  it.  The  lee  side  of  a 
sheep-fold  is  as  snug  as  any  copse.  Go  into  our  field  under 
the  hill,  and  tell  the  shepherd  and  his  boys  that  I  sent  you. 
Make  yourself  snug  there  for  to-night  and  to-morrow,  and  send 
the  boys  with  one  of  the  donkeys  to  our  house  before  dark. 
He  shall  bring  back  beef  and  things,  and  something  for  the 
kinchins,  too." 

"  That's  the  speech  of  the  young  squire,"  said  Rose.  "  Good 
luck  to  you,  Master  Jack,  and  to  your  father  and  sister.  If 
my  cousin.  Jack  Cotswold,  and  my  fool  of  a  husband " 

"  Is  Jack  in  Northamptonshire  ?"  said  Young  Jack- 


280  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  No,  in  Lancashire.  He's  gone  because  of  something 
about  Miriam,  his  niece.  He  may  go  to  America  for  all  I 
know.  She's  there,  and  some  say  the  Indians  have  carried 
her  off.  But  what  then  ?  Some  say  the  d — I's  dead  and 
buried  in  Cold  Harbor.  AVhat  business  had  she  where  the  In- 
dians were,  and  why  did  she  follow  Tom  Scarlet  and  his 
horse?" 

"  Rose,"  said  Jack,  "  this  gentleman  is  from  ISTortharai^ton- 
shire.     His  father  owns  great  estates  there." 

"  I  know  his  father  better  than  you  do,  and  the  young  gen- 
tleman himself  as  well,"  said  Rose.  "  Many  a  time  we  camp 
on  his  honor's  estate,  and  though  the  steward  would  send  us 
packing,  the  earl  let's  us  stay,  and  says :  '  Good  people,  you 
are  welcome  to  camping  ground,  but  you  musn't  injure  the 
plantations !'  O,  'tis  a  bonny  old  earl !  Would  the  young 
gentleman  like  to  have  his  fortune  told  ?" 

"  Or  to  buy  a  dog  ?"  said  the  eldest  boy. 

"  Or  to  see  the  twins  ?"  said  one  of  the  girls. 

"  No,  never  mind,"  said  Lord  Doomsday.  "  Take  these  two 
guineas  for  the  twins.  I  intended  to  give  them  half-crowns, 
but  it  seems  you  are  known  to  my  father." 

"  Please,  my  lord,  I  think  it  is  rather  that  he  is  known  to 
them,"  said  Young  Jack. 

And  then,  as  Rose  tossed  up  the  guineas  with  her  thumb 
nail  and  caught  them  as  they  came  down,  there  was  a  rush 
forward  of  all  the  women,  girls,  and  boys,  to  assure  Lord 
Doomsday  that  they  knew  his  father,  the  earl,  too. 

"  May  your  honor's  luck  never  fail,"  said  the  gypsy.  Rose. 
"  May  your  horse  never  tire  in  the  longest  day.  May  the  owl 
never  hoot  nor  the  black  dog  howl  under  the  eaves  of  your 
hosts  and  friends,  nor  the  red  cock  crow  in  the  stack-yards  of 
your  tenants.  And  good  for  you,  too,  young  squire,  is  the 
word  of  the  gypsy  wherever  her  people  go — you  and  your 
father.  And  for  your  sister,  say  to  her,  I  have  it  from  them 
as  knows,  as  well  as  by  the  winter  stars,  that  she'll  hear  bad 
news  of  a  busybody  and  a  fool,  may  the  devil  fetch  him  !  doubt- 
ful news  of  a  sailor;  good  news  of  him  who  slew  the  man  on 
horseback." 

She  said  this  with  great  rapidity  and  volubility.  And  Lord 
Doomsday,  escaping  a  moment  from  the  steady,  stony  stare  of 
the  twins,  asked  Jack  what  she  meant. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  281 

"  Well,  my  lord,  no  harm  to  us.  The  red  cock  means  fire 
raising  among  barns  and  ricks." 

"  Ay,  young  Bullfinch  !"  said  Rose,  thro^viug  back  her  tan- 
gled hair,  "  and  my  young  brothers,  that  was  transported  be- 
fore your  time,  never  'listed  under  <  Captain  Swing,'  but  was 
sent  for  poaching.  Poaching !  Good  lord  !  If  a  boy  looks 
at  a  hare's  run,  or  a  mouse  in  a  hedgerow^  people  says  he  is  a 
poacher.     I  scorn  'em !" 

"  Ay !  But,  Rose,  I've  heard  say  that  your  brothers  maimed 
two  or  three  keepers  in  the  fight  at  Wootton,"  said  Jack. 

"  You've  had  that  trom  Moleskin.  I  scorn  him,  too.  Tell 
him  I  said  so !" 

With  this  she  strode  oflT,  leading  her  donkey  and  her  tribe 
towards  the  field,  in  which  stood  the  sheepfold  of  furze  and 
haulm,  some  eight  feet  high,  and  well  calculated  to  shelter  the 
low  gypsy  tents  and  carts.  Lord  Doomsday  rode  the  other 
way,  while  Jack  looked  after  the  gypsies,  and  cogitated  :  "  I 
don't  much  like  this,"  said  he ;  "  Rose  knows  more  than  the 
delivers ;  but,  one  way  or  another,  I'll  have  it  out  of  her. 
Never  mind  about  the  winter  stars — it  is  what  she  has  had 
from  those  who  know  that  I  want  to  find  out.  Bad  news  of  a 
fool !  It's  two  to  one  that's  Parkins — he  musn't  have  speech  of 
May.  Doubtful  news  of  a  sailor — that  means  one  of  the  sailors 
Sir  Jerry  rode  after.  Good  news  of  him  who  slew  the  man  on 
horseback  !  If  that  means  that  he  slew  Tom  Scarlet,  the  best 
news  of  him  will  be  that  he's  hung.  I  must  see  Rose  again. 
Better  day,  better  deed  !  To-morrow,  at  break  of  day,  I'll  be 
at  her  tent !" 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

"  Under  a  palm  tree  by  the  green  old  Nile, 

Lull'd  on  his  mother's  breast  the  fair  Child  lies, 
With  dove-like  breathings,  and  a  tender  smile, 

Brooding  above  the  slumber  of  his  eyes, 
While,  through  the  stillness  of  the  burning  skies, 

Lo  !  the  dread  works  of  Egypt's  buried  kings 
Temple  and  pyramid  beyond  him  rise, 

Regal  and  still  as  everlasting  things !" 

AT  five  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  the  English   midwinter  it 
is  about  dark,  unless  there  be  light  from  the  moon  and 
stars.     There  was  none  as  John   Bullfinch  and  his  daughter 


282  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

rode  home  from  the  Grange,  loving  and  happy,  side  by  side. 
The  sky  was  overcast  and  snow  was  falling. 

At  first  the  farmer  whistled,  but  it  seemed  a  disrespect  to 
the  silence  of  the  night,  and  he  ceased  his  melody.  A  solemn 
stillness  prevailed  for  the  most  part,  though  at  times  they  could 
hear  the  baying  of  the  distant  watch  dogs,  while  at  other  times 
there  was  a  near  rush  of  many  wings,  as  flocks  of  widgeon  and 
teal  flew  from  the  head  springs,  down  the  brooks  to  the  open 
ponds.  As  they  rode  along  they  could  see  the  dark  forms  of 
the  hares  and  rabbits  upon  the  thin  snow%  which  half-covered 
the  young  wheat.  Once  an  old  fox  came  stealing  across  the 
road,  and  the  farmer  had  a  mind  to  stand  in  his  stirrups,  and 
give  the  view  halloo.  He  did  not  do  so,  however,  but  pointed 
him  out  to  May,  as  he  loped  along  in  the  dusk,  and  observed 
that  he  was  foraging  for  his  Christmas  dinner.  Away  in  the 
distance  they  saw  the  light  of  the  cottage  fires  gleaming 
through  the  wdndows  under  the  thatch,  reminding  them  of 
their  own  hearth.  The  horses  quickened  their  steps,  and  soon 
the  evening  peal  from  the  bells  in  the  solid,  square  tower  of 
the  old  Saxon  church  mingled  with  the  rapid  patter  of  their 
hoofs.  Pleasant  are  the  bells  in  the  young  time  of  the  long 
winter  night.  Much  gaiety  there  is  in  the  morning  marriage 
peals  which  ring  in  the  triumph  of  love,  but  other  sounds 
interrupt  the  harmony,  which,  in  the  stilly  night,  sounds  un- 
broken. Merrily  yet  softly  rang  the  evening  peal,  to  be  suc- 
ceeded at  midnight  by  one  more  rapid  and  joyful,  the  ringers 
being  then  partly  primed  with  draughts  from  the  cheerful 
spring  of  stout  John  Barleycorn,  a  favorite  time  out  of  mind 
through  all  the  Midland  counties  of  Merry  England.  The 
lights  of  the  old  farm-house  at  Hawkwell  appeared  in  sight, 
and  then  John  Bullfinch  and  his  daughter  w^ere  received  by 
Young  Jack  and  two  of  the  men  with  sprigs  of  holly  in  their 
button  holes. 

"  Hawk'ell  farm  is  a  more  cheerful  place  than  the  Grange," 
said  John  Bullfinch,  as  he  gave  his  reins  to  one  of  the  men  in 
waiting.  "  It's  just  the  same  as  it  was  in  my  grandfather's 
time." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  about  that,  father,"  said  Young  Jack, 
"  for  I've  heard  you  say  that  you  saw  the  elms  planted  that 
are  big  trees  now,  as  high  as  the  old  house  itself;  but  nothing 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  283 

has  changed  in  my  time,  and  I  hope  nothing  will.  But, 
father,  there's  a  party  at  Hawk'ell  Farm  to-night,"  he  added, 
as  he  followed  his  father  and  sister  into  the  house. 

"  Well,  he's  welcome — who  is  he  ?" 

"  It  isn't  a  man,  but  a  strong  party  of  women  and  children. 
You  see,  Lord  Doomsday,  going  home  to  keep  Christmas  at 
his  father's — it's  an  observance  the  earl  expects — rode  over  to 
see  me,  and  left  many  respects  and  good  wishes  for  you  and 
May. 

"  Very  good !  I'm  obliged  to  his  lordship.  I'm  sorry  I 
was  not  at  home," 

"  O,  it  made  no  difference.  I  took  him  over  to  the  lane  by 
the  Long  Hill  and  the  sheepfold  ground,  and  there  we  met  the 
gypsy  women  and  children  of  Rose  Tanner's  band,  twins  and 
ail,  on  the  tramp.  Parkins,  taking  advantage  of  the  absence 
of  the  men,  had  bundled  them,  bag  and  baggage,  out  of  the 
hazel  copse  hollow,  pretending  that  he  had  authority  from  Sir 
Jerry,  and  there  they  were,  on  the  hoof — night  comiog,  and 
nowhere  to  go  to,  with  Rose  and  her  twins  at  the  head." 

" D — n  Parkins !"  said  John.  "May,  my  dear,  that  fellow's 
meddlesomeness  is  insufferable.  So  the  people  are  here  now. 
Jack  ?" 

"  Why,  no  ;  not  here.  It  seems  that  they  have  often  camped 
on  Lord  Doomsday's  father's  estates,  and  promised — honor 
bright ! — never  to  damage  the  plantations.  Besides,  Rose 
offered  to  tell  Lord  Doomsday's  fortune  for  nothing,  and  the 
upshot  was  that  I  gave  her  leave  to  enter  our  ground  and 
make  their  camp  for  to-night  and  Christmas  Day  under  the 
burrow-side  of  the  fold.  I  knew  you  wouldn't  have  the 
women  and  children  wandering  about  in  the  cold  and  snow  on 
Christmas  eve,  if  you  could  help  it." 

"  Come  and  kiss  me,  dear  Jack,"  said  May.  "  It  was  quite 
right." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  John  Bullfinch.  "  Jack  has 
fallen  short  of  what  I  should  have  expected,  considering  the 
time  of  the  year  and  the  bells  we  hear.  Giving  them  leave 
to  camp  was  well  enough  in  its  way,  but  it  wasn't  enough," 

"  O,  Jack !  that  is  true,"  said  May.  "  You  should  have  pro- 
vided for  their  wants,  in  remembrance  of  those  who  were  this 
night  lodged  in  the  stable  of  an  inn,  and  of  Him  w^ho  was  lain 
in  a  man2;er,  between  an  ox  and  an  ass." 


284  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WDOTTON. 

"  Never  mind,  Jack,"  said  his  father  ;  "  it  can  be  remedied. 
After  tea  you  shall  drive  the  spring-cart  over  with  some  beef 
and  bread  and  things,  and,  as  it's  Christmas  eve,  a  little  sum- 
mut  in  the  drinking  line,  to  keep  the  wandering  creeturs  warm 
in  their  thin  tents  during  the  watches  of  this  blessed  night." 

"  Father,  I  went  further  than  you  and  May  think.  I  ordered 
up  two  of  the  boys  with  a  donkey.  Rose  sent  one  boy  and  the 
oldest  gal ;  because,  she  said,  as  the  girl  reported,  two  boys 
would  eat  and  stuff  and  go  slow  all  the  way,  whereas  the  gal 
would  hurry  back  to  the  twins  with  the  best  things  untouched. 
She  knows  a  thing  or  two,  Rose  does.  The  gypsies  are  now 
sitting  round  their  fires,  wishing  good  luck  to  this  house  and 
everybody  belonging  to  it.  The  twins  are  an  uncommon  fine 
brace  of  kinchins." 

"  I  wish  I  had  been  at  home  for  the  sake  of  the  children," 
said  May. 

"  Then  you  needn't,  as  you'll  find  w'hen  you  see  how  many 
of  the  patty-pan  mince-pies  have  walked  off  to  the  sheepfold 
on  that  donkey's  four  legs,"  said  Jack. 

"  All  right !"  said  John.  *'  I  remember  Rose  Tanner  when 
she  was  a  gal,  and  her  three  brothers  were  convicted  and  sen- 
tenced to  transportation.  Mere  boys !  it  was  hard.  And  I 
think  I  can  see  her  now,  as  she  stood  at  the  ring  side  a  month 
or  two  after  her  marriage,  wearing  her  husband's  colors  in  her 
bonnet,  and  cheering  him  on  while  he  licked  the  Northcountry 
drover  in  a  battle  for  2bl.  a  side.  'Twas  a  good  fight,  and  the 
gypsy  won.  I  know  who  found  his  battle  money.  Gypsy 
Jack  and  Rose's  father  seconded  him  ;  and,  after  it  was  over, 
Sir  Jerry  observed  that  Rose  would  make  a  splendid  bottle- 
holder.  The  Admiral  got  her  youngest  brother's  sentence  com- 
muted on  condition  that  he  should  serve  seven  years  in  a  man- 
of-war,  which  is,  he  says,  the  best  place  for  the  education  of 
boys  in  the  world.  He  ought  to  know,  for  he  went  on  one  at 
ten  years  old.  But  the  table  is  ready,  and  we'll  take  tea," 
said  John,  with  an  eye  to  the  cold  chine.  He  then  added, 
briskly :  "  I  have  heard  good  news,  Jack.  That  is  to  say,  not 
news  altogether  strictly  speaking,  but  tidings." 

"  What  is  the  difference  between  news  and  tidings  ?"  said 
Jack. 

"  Sir,  if  you  don't  know  the  difference  between  news  and 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOX.  285 

tidings,  after  the  education  you've  had,  and  welcome  to  more, 
I  shan't  take  the  trouble  to  explain  it,"  said  John.  "  Parkins 
is  a  fool,  mind  that !" 

"  O  !"  cried  Young  Jack,  his  father  having  trod  very  heavily 
on  his  toes.  "  Gammoned,  perhaps,"  he  added,  with  a  wince, 
and  backing  away  from  the  boot. 

"  Regularly  gammoned  !"  replied  his  father. 

About  ten  o'clock,  the  farmer  and  his  children  left  their 
own  sitting-room  for  the  great  kitchen,  or  hall,  of  the  house. 
It  was  prepared  for  the  due  keeping  of  Christmas  eve.  The 
walls  were  bedecked  with  holly  and  ivy — the  mystic  bough 
of  the  mistletoe  of  the  oak  hung  in  the  centre  of  the  ceiling, 
and  the  yule  log  blazed  upon  the  wide  hearth.  The  milk- 
maids, housemaid,  the  dairymaid  and  ploughboys,  living  in 
the  house,  were  already  assembled,  dressed  in  their  best, 
with  their  ruddy  cheeks  glowing  in  the  light  of  the  mighty 
fire.  At  a  wink  from  Young  Jack,  as  he  glanced  up  at  the 
mistletoe  bough,  the  dairymaid  got  redder  in  the  face  than 
ever.  John  Bullfinch  and  his  daughter  and  son  took  their 
seats.  The  farm  and  stable  men  were  expected  every  minute. 
Old  Will  Dean,  the  shepherd,  was  the  first  to  come.  When 
he  had  seated  himself  in  one  of  the  chimney  corners  May  filled 
his  pipe  and  handed  it  to  him.  "  We  be  met  agen  !  master  !" 
said  the  old  fellow,  after  he  had  pufled  out  clouds  of  smoke 
for  some  time,  "  round  this  here  Christmas  fire.  I  was  a-thiuk- 
ing  as  I  come  along  how  many  years  it  is  since  I  first  saw  the 
blaze  on  this  hearth  on  Christmas  eve.  I  got  up  to  sixty  that 
I  can  remember  ;  but  there  must  have  been  more,  master,  for 
I  was  but  a  little  shaver  when  I  was  first  employed  as  bird- 
keeper  and  such  like,  by  your  father — your  grandfather.  Miss 
May  and  Master  Jack !  I  dreamed  last  night  that  this  here 
fire  had  never  gone  out  since  I  first  saw  it  on  Christmas  eve, 
about  sixty  years  ago  !" 

"  It's  onlucky  to  talk  of  such  thing,  at  this  time,"  observed 
Timms,  the  ploughman,  who  had  just  come  in,  and  had  caught 
the  latter  j^art  of  what  Dean  said, 

"To  be  sure!"  said  the  dairymaid.  "It  ben't  Christmas 
until  after  twelve  o'clock." 

"  I'll  stand  to  it  that  it  is !"  said  old  Dean.  "  I  say  Christ- 
mas begins  on  Christmas  eve ;  and  Christmas  eve  begins  when 


286  TUE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

the  yule  log  has  been  laid  on  the  fire  and  is  well  lighted. 
AVhy,  I  ought  to  know.  I  be  the  oldest  man  here,  and  have 
seen  more  Christmas  eves  than  any  of  ye.  Moreover,  shep- 
herds be  set  down  in  the  Bible  in  what  it  says  about  this 
blessed  night,  and  there's  no  mention  made  of  ploughmen  or 
dairymaids !" 

Old  Will  looked  around  triumphantly  and  resumed  his  pipe. 
John  Bullfinch,  to  cut  off  further  discussion  of  this  knotty 
point,  cried : 

"  Eleven  o'clock,  Jack  !  everybody's  here  strictly  belonging 
to  Hawk'ell !  pour  out  horns  of  last  year's  October.  May,  my 
dear  !  see  to  the  punch.  Your  brother  had  almost  forgot  the 
brandy." 

Young  Jack  poured  out  for  all  the  men  and  young  women 
from  a  mighty  flagon  of  ale,  and  then  his  sister  returned  from 
the  bakehouse,  followed  by  the  two  stoutest  of  the  milkmaids, 
buxom  lasses  who  could  swing  a  full  pail  of  milk  over  their 
heads  without  spilling  a  drop,  bearing  a  great  bowl  of  punch. 
It  was  tightly  tied  over  with  a  white  cloth,  but  when  set  down 
upon  the  hearth  the  fragrant  fumes  of  brandy  and  spices  arose 
fi'om  it.  A  few  furtive  glances  at  the  mistletoe  bough,  with 
suppressed  giggles  from  the  girls,  succeeded  the  bringing  in 
of  the  punch.  It  was  a  signal  that  the  crisis  of  the  night  was 
coming  on. 

Half-past  eleven  by  the  tall  old  eight-day  clock  in  the 
corner,  and  John  Bullfinch  began  to  look  impatiently  towards 
the  door,  as  though  he  was  in  the  mind  to  chide  the  tarrying 
of  some  expected  guest.  The  dogs,  following  the  example  of 
the  great  raastift'  bitch,  raised  themselves  upon  their  haunches, 
and  made  a  little  stir.  The  door  was  thrown  open,  and, 
shaking  the  snow  from  his  hat  upon  the  threshold,  Moleskin 
appeared.     Grounding  the  but  of  his  gun,  he  cried  : 

"  I  know  what  you're  going  to  say !  Don't  mention  such  a 
thing.  It's  all  a  mistake.  I'm  not  late.  I'm  never  late  on 
Christmas  eve.     Your  clock  is  fast." 

*'  Dick,  you  are  late,"  said  John  Bullfinch,  with  decided 
emphasis,  "but  better  late  than  never.  The  clock  is  not  fast. 
My  grandfather  had  that  clock,  and  it  stood  there  in  all  my 
fiither's  time.  That  clock  is  none  of  your  gilded,  new-fashioned 
gimcracks.     She  has  been  gone  by  a  hundred  years  in  this 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  287 

family,  and  was  never  known  to  be  a  minute  fast,  or  a  minute 
slow,  on  Christmas  eve.  I'll  back  her  against  any  clock  in 
England  on  Christmas  eve,  barring  the  church  clock.  May, 
my  dear,  we  are  all  here  now.  Proceed  with  the  narrative  of 
the  first  Christmas  night." 

Then  May  Bullfinch  arose  and  with  a  sweet  and  low,  but 
clear  voice,  related  the  history  of  the  birth  of  Our  Lord  as  it 
is  given  in  the  gospels.  How  the  shepherds,  watching  their 
flocks  by  night  on  the  lone  hills  of  Judea,  saw  a  bright  star  in 
the  heavens,  over  Bethlehem,  which  had  never  been  there 
before ;  how  there  came  a  vivid  light,  and  the  Angel  of  the 
Lord  appeared  to  them  with  great  glory,  and  they  were  sore 
afraid  ;  how  he  bade  them  to  be  of  good  cheer,  for  the 
Saviour  of  the  world  was  born  of  David's  line;  how  the 
Mother,  going  up  to  Jerusalem,  had  taken  refuge  in  a  stable, 
where  the  Child  was  born,  and  laid  in  a  manger,  between  an 
ox  and  an  ass ;  how  the  wise  men  of  the  East  saw  His  star 
in  the  heavens,  and  came  to  worship  Him  ;  how  King  Herod 
issued  a  decree  to  kill  all  the  babies,  that  the  One  foretold  by 
the  prophets  might  be  cut  ofi";  and  how  the  Angel  appeared 
to  Mary  and  Joseph  and  told  them  to  take  the  young  Child 
and  flee  into  Egypt. 

As  she  finished,  a  deep  silence  followed  the  cadence  of  her 
soft  voice,  and  all  eyes  were  turned  to  the  clock.  Moment 
after  moment  was  counted,  as  they  listened  for  its  striking,  or 
the  beginning  of  the  Christmas  peal  from  the  strong  old  tower, 
whose  bells  had  rung  it  out  to  the  frosty  air  of  the  night  for 
many  centuries.  It  stood  within  a  quarter  of  a  minute  of 
twelve,  and  Moleskin  said,  in  a  ghost  of  a  whisper : 

"  I  know  she's  fast !" 

He  would  have  been  reproved  afterwards  for  breaking  the 
profound  silence  of  the  supreme  moment,  but  at  the  instant 
the  clock  struck  there  came  such  a  clang  from  all  the  bells  at 
once  as  would  have  shaken  any  tower  but  the  old  Saxon  church 
tower,  and  as  proved  that  the  ringers  were  indeed  tuned  up  to 
concert  pitch  by  the  generous  juice  of  stout  John  Barleycorn. 

"  Now,  then !  who  said  that  clock  was  fast  ?"  cried  John 
Bullfinch,  triumphantly.  "May,  give  me  the  punch-ladle! 
Uncover  the  bowl !" 

"  Jest  so !"  said  Young  Jack,  with  a  wink  which  compre- 
hended all  the  maidens,  and  a  glance  overhead. 


288  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"Now,  then,"  said  John,  when  he  had  served  thera  all, 
"men  and  maids,  here's  a  Merry  Christmas  and  a  Happy 
New  Year '     Drink  it,  every  one !" 

They  did  drink  it,  and  drank  it  once  again.  The  glasses 
were  then  then  set  down,  and  there  were  more  glances  at  the 
green  bough  with  the  white  berries  above,  and  a  good  deal 
more  giggling.  John  Bullfinch  led  his  daughter  underneath, 
and  kissed  her.  IMoleskin,  as  an  old  friend  of  the  family,  fol- 
lowed suit.  Then  old  Will  Dean  advanced  and  took  May's 
hand.  'I  have  kissed  this  here  beautiful  lass  and  good 
daater,"  said  he,  "  every  Christmas  eve  since  she  was  born. 
Her  mother,  the  best  'oman  as  I  ever  knowed,  or  as  ever  lived 
(except  the  Mother  of  Our  Lord),  brings  her  to  me  the  first 
time  on  Christmas  eve,  when  she  was  three  weeks  old — for  she 
was  born  just  three  weeks  before  Christmas — and,  says  she : 
<  Will  Dean,  here  is  the  prettiest  little  lamb  that  ever  was  sent 
to  bless  a  happy  couple  since  the  Great  Shepherd  was  born 
unto  the  world.'  Them's  the  words  she  said.  Master,  you 
can't  deny  it.  Master  Moleskin,  you  can't  deny  it.  I'll  stand 
to  it — nobody  can  deny  it !     Then  I  kissed  her." 

"  Very  well !"  cried  Young  Jack  ;  "  kiss  her  again,  and  let 
some  of  the  rest  of  us  have  a  chance  under  that  bough !" 

May  and  the  old  shepherd  retired,  when,  amid  much  gig- 
gling and  laughing,  Young  Jack  led  the  youngest  and  pret- 
tiest of  the  milkmaids  under  the  bough,  and  the  regulation 
ceremony  followed  fast  and  free. 

The  immense  punch-bowl  was  largely  lightened  of  its  con- 
tents before  John  Bullfinch  said  :  "  Your  shawl,  May.  Come 
on.  Moleskin  !  Come  on,  Jack  !  Tom  is  ready,  with  his  lan- 
tern, and  we'll  pay  the  usual  visit  to  Cowslip.  She  expects  it, 
and  would  be  put  out  if  we  didn't  go.  She  knows  when  Christ- 
mas has  come  as  well  as  we  do." 

"  I'm  rather  dubersome  about  that,"  said  Moleskin,  as  he  fol- 
lowed John  and  his  daughter  out.  "She's  a  very  knowing 
mare,  no  doubt — almost  as  much  so  as  my  dogs,  but  as  to  her 
knowing  this  night  from  another  night " 

"  Your  dogs  !"  said  John  Bullfinch,  with  some  contempt ;  "  I 
tell  you  Cowslip  knows  it  is  Christmas  eve  as  well  as  we  do, 
if  not  better.     Eh,  May?" 

"  She  does  indeed,  father." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  289 

"  It's  a  true  bill,  Moleskin  :  let  me  explain  it,"  said  Jack, 
detaining  him  a  little.  "  It's  all  along  of  the  bells.  They 
never  ring  at  midnight  on  any  other  night  save  the  night  of 
the  New  Year,  and  then,  you  know,  they  begin  with  a  muffled 
chime,  a  quarter  before  twelve.     Don't  you  see?" 

"  Don't  I  see !  why,  it's  as  plain  as  the  sun  at  noontime,  on 
a  clear  day,  but  I  didn't  see  it  before." 

The  hunting-mare  was  on  foot,  wide  awake,  with  her  head 
to  the  door  of  the  box.  She  answered  their  salutation,  "  A 
Merry  Christmas,  Cowslip !"  with  a  joyous  neigh,  and  to  May's 
pats  and  fond  caresses  she  replied  with  whinnies  of  gratifica- 
tion. 

"  I  told  you  so  !"  cried  John.  "  She's  fully  aware  of  the 
season,  and  up  to  the  time  o'  night.  See  seems  unusually 
pleased  this  year.     What  is  it,  old  gal  ?" 

"  If  I  might  venture  to  answer  for  her — I  don't  suppose  she 
can  speak  herself  yet — it  must  be  this,"  said  Moleskin,  point- 
ing out  the  new  saddle  and  bridle  in  her  box. 

"  Eh !"  cried  John.  "  This  is  a  plot,  and  Southdown  was  in 
it." 

"  No,  father  !  it's  a  Christmas-gift  to  Cowslip  from  May  and 
me.  There  was  nobody  but  May  and  me  in  it ;  but  I  happened 
to  mention  that  we  had  it  ordered  to  ^lag  Southdown,  and  the 
little  lass  couldn't  help  telling  her  father." 

"Well,  my  children,  you  have  made  me  and  Cowslip  very 
happy — very  happy !"  said  John. 

When  they  returned  to  the  house  there  was  the  usual  leave- 
taking.  The  men  went  home.  The  maids  and  boys  went 
talking  and  giggling  up-stairs.  May  and  Jack  bade  their 
father  and  Moleskin  good-night,  and  retired  also.  Then  the 
cronies  sat  themselves  down  to  a  quiet  pipe  and  a  last  glass 
of  the  punch.  Neither  spoke — their  silent  satisfaction  was 
too  intense  for  conversation — until  the  keeper  rose  to  go.  Then 
John  remarked : 

"  Dick,  the  night  has  been  passed  as,  on  this  hallowed  occa- 
sion, it  ever  should  be.  To  my  thinking,  there  was  nothing 
forgot." 

"  A  small  trifle  I  forgot  myself,"  replied  Moleskin.  "  There 
should  be  a  small  matter  of  a  bag  here.     Ah  !  here  it  is !" 

He  drew  a  bag  from  under  a  side  table,  beneath  which  he 
19 


290  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

had  thrown  it  as  he  entered,  and,  emptying  it  at  one  shake, 
out  fell  three  brace  of  the  very  finest  pheasants  that  ever  flew 
in  the  coverts.  "  With  the  compliments  of  the  Marquis  of 
Chandos,"  said  Moleskin,  his  cast-iron  visage  at  its  hardest 
set. 

"None  of  your  humbug,  sir!"  said  John,  sternly.  "What 
do  you  mean  by  trying  to  humbug  me  f  At  this  season,  too  ! 
It's  your  gift — your  own,  Dick !  And  why  wasn't  it  made 
while  the  people  were  here,  so  that  they  might  see  how  you 
remember  your  old  friend  ?" 

"  Not  a  word  on  that,"  said  Moleskin.  "The  sight  of  pheas- 
ants outside  of  the  preserves — dead  pheasants — is  a  temptation 
to  farmers'  lads  and  men  not  proper  to  be  put  before  'em.  If, 
through  seeing  these  pheasants,  any  of  your  men  had  been  led 
to  venture  into  the  covert?,  the  consequences  might  have  been 
serious,  for  man-traps  and  spring-guns " 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  sir !  drop  your  humbug !  It's  your 
present !  The  marquis  has  nothing  to  do  with  it,  and  you 
know  it." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  the  sort.  I  can  prove  by  statement 
and  by  argument,  time  and  place  fitting " 

"  I'll  hear  no  statement !  Argument  has  no  more  eflfcct 
upon  me  than  upon  Southdown  himself  Stop  your  gammon, 
or  I'll  call  my  daater  down,  and  she'll  make  you  take  the 
pheasants  away  agen !" 

"The  marquis,"  said  Moleskin,  "directs  me  to  shoot  so 
many  pheasants,  and  give  'em  away  to  the  tenants." 

"  I'm  no  tenant  of  the  marquis,  sir !" 

"  I  know  it.  But  the  marquis  added :  '  Don't  forget  your 
old  friend,  John  Bullfinch,  and  give  him  my  compliments  of 
the  season.'  " 

"  There,  now !  It's  your  own  gift  to  your  own  friend — 
that's  what  this  is !" 

"Well,  goorl-iiight !"  said  Moleskin. 

"  Good-night,  Dick !  Remember  we  dine  at  half-past  one 
on  Christmas  day." 

"  All  right.  I'll  be  here  to  a  minute,  providing  that  clock 
ain't  fast !" 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  291 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

"Mother  of  Empires!  Daughter  of  Jails! 
Hail  to  thee,  New  South  Wales  !" 

MAY  BULLFINCH  and  her  brother  sat  awhile  in  her 
room  that  Christmas  eve,  after  they  went  up-stairs.  The 
boy  thought  once  or  twice  that  he  would  tell  her  what  Lord 
Doomsday  said,  but  he  did  not.  May  repeated  to  him  what 
Old  Straddles  said  at  the  Grange,  but  it  did  not  much  impress 
Jack,  although  he  determined  not  to  say  so.  He  would  not 
do  anything  to  abate  his  sister's  cheerfulness,  and,  though  his 
mind  still  ran  upon  the  words  of  the  gypsy,  he  talked  of  Tom 
Scarlet.  But  while  his  sister  sat  with  his  hand  in  hers,  and 
recalled  the  incidents  of  former  Christmas  eves,  at  which  Tom 
Scarlet  had  been  at  Havvkwell,  the  boy  resolved  to  see  the 
gypsy  Rose  at  a  very  early  hour  in  the  morning.  They  then 
talked  of  their  father,  and  what  a  pleasure  it  was  to  see  him 
enjoy  himself;  of  old  Will  Dean,  the  shepherd;  of  the 
keeper,  and  of  the  Southdowns,  especially  the  lassie  Meg, 
"who  was  a  great  favorite  with  them.  At  last.  May  being  tired, 
and  Jack  affecting  to  be  so,  the  sister  and  brother  knelt  side 
by  side,  as  was  their  constant  custom,  and  said  their  prayers 
in  the  good,  old,  confiding  style  of  children  to  a  loving  and 
protecting  God,  "  Our  Father  who  art  in  Heaven." 

Some  time  before  the  dawn  of  day  the  lad  rose,  dressed 
himself  silently,  and  went  softly  down-stairs.  He  patted  the 
great  mastiff.  Fury,  as  she  lay  before  the  yule  fire,  and  then 
went  to  the  stables  and  awakened  Tom,  the  groom,  telling  him 
to  clap  the  saddle  on  Young  Cowslip. 

"  She  ben't  roughshod,"  said  the  sleepy  groom.  "  Better 
take  Black  Hearty.  But  wheer  be  'e  going  before  day,  Mas- 
ter Jack  ?" 

"  To  the  sheepfold  at  the  long  hill,  Tom." 

"  Then  if  I  was  'e  I  wouldn't.  Ship  be  all  right,  I  know. 
Shepherd  Dean  'ull  look  out  for  them." 


292  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON, 

"  Tom,"  said  Young  Jack,  "  the  gypsies  are  there,  aud  I 
want  to  see  Kose  Tanner  on  particular  business.  Say  nothing 
of  it." 

"  Well,  you  knows  best,  Master  Jack,  but  have  a  keer  of 
that  Kose.  She's  a  regular  rum  'un,  she  is.  If  you  want 
your  fortin'  tell'd,  better  get  Dark  Janet  to  do  it ;  she's  the 
'oman  for  that  theer  sort  of  thing.  Rose  is  too  obstropulus, 
and  folks  say  'ull  stick  at  nothing — nothing  !" 

"  All  right !  Mum's  the  word !  I'll  be  back  before  May 
and  my  father  are  up." 

"  Hold  on !  through  the  strawyard,  if  you  must  go.  The 
step  of  a  horse  on  hard  ground  'ull  wake  master  any  time. 
Look  out  for  that  theer  Rose.  All  them  Coopers  be  rum  'uns, 
and  theer's  a  mighty  sight  on  'em  all  through  the  Midlands. 
Her  three  brothers  was  transported  in  their  teens.  The  young 
'un  warn't  fifteen." 

There  was  a  "  nipping  and  an  eager  air,"  a  light  wind  from 
the  northwest  sweeping  over  the  crisp  snow,  and  the  stars  were 
paling  and  waning  in  the  wintry  sky,  as  Jack  cantered  on 
towards  the  camp  at  the  sheepfold.  John  Bullfinch  had  not 
told  his  daughter  and  son  all  that  he  might  have  done  in  re- 
gard to  Rose  and  her  brothers  on  the  preceding  evening.  The 
truth  was,  that  when  sentence  was  passed  upon  the  boy  aud 
the  two  young  men  and  the  elder  gypsy  women  raised  a  wail 
of  woe.  Rose  stood  up,  threw  back  her  bonnet,  berated  the 
judge,  and  made  such  predictions  touching  the  homesteads  and 
stackyards  of  the  jury  as  made  some  of  them  turn  pale  with 
fear.  The  judge  ordered  her  to  be  removed,  but  she  fought 
the  sheriff's  men  like  a  young  tigress,  and  tripped  two  of  them 
off  their  feet.  Long  before  her  strength  and  fury  were  spent 
Tanner,  the  gypsy,  who  afterwards  married  her,  a  very  strong 
aud  active  young  fellow,  caught  her  suddenly  under  the  arms 
and  carried  her  bodily  out  of  court.  When  the  convict  ship 
lay  in  the  Thames,  bound  to  Australia,  Rose  trudged  up  to 
London,  took  farewell  of  her  two  brothers  (the  other  was  al- 
ready aboard  a  man-of-war,  at  Portsmouth),  and  bespoke  the 
favor  of  some  of  the  young  officers  and  sailors  for  them.  She 
saw  the  ship  under  weigh  at  Deptford,  and  repeated  to  her- 
self the  words  of  an  old  ballad  often  chanted  at  fairs,  feasts 
and  races  in  the  Midlands : 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  293 

0,  as  we  sailed  down  the  river,  boys, 

It  was  in  the  month  of  May, 
And  every  ship  that  we  passed  by 

We  heard  the  sailors  say, 
*  There  goes  a  lot  of  clever  young  lads 

And  they're  bound  to  Botany  Bay.'  " 

The  gypsies  never  lost  their  cheerfulness.  They  were  looked 
upon  with  favor  by  the  sailors,  marines  and  petty  officers. 
Poaching  is,  no  doubt,  a  crime  of  extraordinary  atrocity,  but 
that  class  of  people  do  uot  so  regard  it.  Only  once  during 
the  passage  were  Rose's  brothers  put  in  irons,  and  that  was  but 
for  two  or  three  days.  Even  in  a  convict  ship  there  are  classes 
and  factions.  The  London  convicts,  led  by  some  eminent  but 
unfortunate  members  of  the  swell  mob,  treated  the  country 
party  with  high  disdain,  calling  them  chaw-bacons,  joskins, 
bumpkins,  yokels,  &c.  This  was  borne  for  some  time ;  but  one 
day,  when  rations  were  being  served  out,  one  of  the  swells, 
with  much  dignity  and  hauteur,  ordered  the  gypsies  to  stand 

back.     "  Stan'  back  be  d d  !  we've  as  much  right  here  as 

you  !"  said  the  elder,  and  forthwith  knocked  the  gentleman 
down,  whereupon  his  brother  floored  a  highly  respectable  and 
polished  forger.  In  Australia,  the  gypsies  were  soon  assigned 
to  an  old  army  officer,  who  owned  tens  of  thousands  of  sheep. 
For  three  or  four  years  they  were  shepherds  on  some  of  the 
wildest  and  most  remote  runs  in  the  colony.  The  life  suited 
them  and  they  suited  the  life.  They  had  a  desperate  battle 
with  a  tribe  of  wild  blacks,  and  repulsed  them,  with  two  or 
three  killed  and  several  wounded.  They  stood  high  in  favor 
with  their  employer,  and  with  his  consent,  volunteered  for  an 
exploring  expedition  in  the  interior.  There  was  no  Melbourne 
and  no  colony  of  Victoria  then.  After  months  of  sore  pri- 
vation and  the  loss  of  many  men,  the  expedition,  or  what  re- 
mained of  it,  limped  back  to  New  South  Wales.  For  their 
services,  the  gypsies  received  tickets  of  leave  at  once.  The 
old  colonel  furnished  them  with  sheep  on  credit,  and  set  them 
up  on  a  distant  run.  The  gypsies  were  soon  on  the  way  to 
wealth,  and  in  a  very  few  years  possessed  such  land,  flocks  of 
sheep  and  droves  of  horses  as  constituted  riches  beyond  the 
wildest  dreams  of  their  tribe  at  home.  Behold,  O  rulers, 
philosophers  and  sages,  the  mockery  of  fate !  Here  was  the 
one  who  had  been  "  graciously  pardoned,"  a  man  before  the 


294  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

mast  in  a  ship  of  war ;  and  here  were  those  who  had  crossed 
the  line,  under  the  sign  of  bayonets  and  handcuffs,  great 
proprietors  at  the  Antipodes,  sure  to  be  ranked  among  the 
explorers  and  founders  of  the  future  mighty  empire  of  the 
Southeast.  John  Bullfinch  did  not  know  all  this,  but  he  did 
know  that  the  Coopers  were  now  free  men,  their  fourteen  years 
having  expired,  and  that  they  w^ere  uncommonly  well-to-do. 
They  had  sent  money  to  their  sister  Rose  through  liim.  The 
first  time  it  was  twenty  pounds,  a  draft  drawn  by  a  Sydney 
bank,  and  there  was  a  sensible  injunction  from  the  brothers  to 
keep  it  secret.  The  letter  in  which  the  draft  was  enclosed 
read  as  follows : 

"  Mister  John  Bullfinch  :  We  writes  this  for  you  to  read 
to  our  sister  Hose,  having  been  larnt  on  the  passage,  a  long  'un. 
This  is  a  fine  country  when  you  get  used  to  it.  We  got  a 
sight  of  sheep  and  some  land,  also  horses.  Our  run  is  a  long 
way  from  the  coast.  AVe  are  glad  to  hear  that  Rose  is  well 
married.  She  was  the  handsomest  gal  of  all  the  Coopers.  A 
Warwickshire  cove,  sent  out  here  for  nothing  in  pertickler,  he 
says,  though  the  beaks  called  it  highway  robbery,  tells  us  her 
husband,  one  of  the  Tanner's,  you  may  know  him,  is  a  good 
two-handed  man.  He  seen  him  fight  Dick  the  drover,  and 
our  Rose  was  there.  We  sends  this  money  to  you  because  we 
know  you  to  be  a  good  man,  real  gentleman.  The  bankers 
advised  us  to  send  it  to  the  parson  at  Riding-Stoke,  but  we 
have  our  doubts  about  his  honesty.  Vf  e  was  pulled  afore  him 
and  fined  twice,  when  we  never  done  it.  So  now  no  more, 
only  if  you  can  buy  a  good  thoroughbred  horse  cheap,  fit  for 
a  stallion,  ship  him  to  Sydney,  consigned  to  Belcher  &  Buckle, 
for  us.  We  got  plenty  of  money  in  the  bank  at  Sydney,  and 
have  left  directions  to  pay  all  charges.  So  here's  good  luck 
to  all  at  Hawk'ell,  and  to  Rose. 

"  From  her  brothers,         Tom  and  Elijah  Cooper." 

The  second  remittance  sent  to  John  Bullfinch  from  Australia 
for  Rose  was  larger  than  the  first,  and  with  it  came  news  that 
her  brothers  were  more  and  more  prosperous.  What  she  did 
with  the  money  John  could  not  well  make  out.  He  offered  to 
put  it  in  the  bank  for  her,  but  Rose  received  the  suggestion 
with  some  contempt.     Her  husband  got  but  little  of  it,  and 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO K  295 

that  was  doled  out  to  him  about  half  a  crown  at  a  time.  The 
way  of  life  of  the  family  remained  unchanged,  but  the  brown 
bare-legged  girls  were  sometimes  ornamented  with  earrings  and 
beads  of  gold.  On  one  occasion  the  farmer  asked  the  gypsy 
whether  she  would  not  like  to  remove  to  Australia  with  her 
husband  and  family. 

"What!"  said  Rose,  "leave  my  country,  Old  England? 
Never,  never !  Unless  Jack  Tanner  should  be  fool  enough  to 
get  transported." 

As  Young  Jack  drew  near  the  fold  he  gave  a  low  whistle, 
at  which  there  was  the  barking  of  dogs,  followed  by  the  voice 
of  Rose  in  low  tones.  The  gypsy  came  from  her  tent,  and 
made  a  gesture  to  the  boy  signifying  that  he  should  dismount. 
She  then  made  a  dive  into  the  tent  and  returned  with  a 
Whitney  blanket  in  which  she  and  the  lad  enveloped  the  horse. 
He  was  then  hitched  to  the  gateway  of  the  fold.  "Well, 
young  master,  you're  up  betimes.  I  wonder  if  it  betokens  a 
merry  Christmas.  I  wish  you  one.  Come  into  the  tent. 
There's  no  one  there  but  the  twins,  with  Jenny  and  her 
young  'un.     Come  in  out  of  the  cold." 

The  tent  was  tolerably  spacious,  and  very  snug.  When  the 
gypsy  lit  a  lamp,  Jack  saw  by  its  dull  light  that  the  twins  lay 
on  a  bed  or  rather  on  a  blanket,  thrown  over  boughs  of  balsam 
fir.  They  were  wide  awake,  and  staring  with  all  their  might. 
Beyond  them  was  a  large  brown  mass,  at  which  the  lad  looked 
■with  some  surprise,  when  he  could  make  out  what  it  was. 

"That's  Jeuuy  and  her  young  'un,"  said  the  gypsy,  holding 
the  lamp  so  that  young  Bullfinch  could  plainly  see  a  she  ass 
with  her  young  foal.  The  latter,  with  its  great,  mild  eyes, 
stared  as  hard  at  him  as  the  twins  did.  "  Young  squire,  you 
may  talk  as  much  as  you  like  about  racers  and  hunters,  but 
give  me  Jenny  for  my  money.  If  anything  happened  to  me 
she  would  nurse  them  twins.  They  suck  her  sometimes  as 
it  is." 

"  It's  a  wonder  to  me  that  the  twins  don't  catch  cold.  Rose ; 
there's  little  or  nothing  on  them,"  said  Jack. 

"  I  took  the  blanket  for  your  horse,"  she  replied.  "  But  our 
people  never  catch  cold.  We  leave  that  to  you  folks.  You 
put  up  houses  like  jails,  and  it's  my  opinion  that  all  sorts  of 
ailments  are  built  inside.     Look  at  me !     I  was  never  sick  a 


296  THE  WEITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

day  in  my  life.  Besides,  the  heat  from  Jenny  keeps  the 
twins  warm.  Sit  you  down  on  the  panniers  there,  and  tell 
me  what  vou  came  for.  Is  it  for  me  to  tell  your  sister's 
fortune?"' 

"  No,  it  is  not.  May  don't  believe  in  those  things.  She 
thinks  it  wicked,  and  says  we  should  abide  in  I'aith  and  trust, 
inquiring  no  further,"  said  he. 

"That's  what  she  says,  is  11?"  replied  the  gypsy;  "then 
why  the  nation  don't  she  abide  in  faith  and  trust,  instead  of 
doubting  and  pining  and  saying  prayers?  Perhaps  you  want 
your  fortin'  tell'd  ?" 

"  No,  I  don't ;  I  want  the  truth  told.  Besides,  they  say  that 
you  are  not  in  that  line.  Dark  Janet  is  the  one  for  that,  peo- 
ple say." 

"  Dark  Janet !  bah !  young  Bullfinch  !  She  never  tells 
nothing  above  the  cut  of  servant  wenches,  ploughboys  and 
cowboys.  When  I  consults  the  stars  it  concerns  the  aristoc- 
racy and  gentlemen's  daaters.  How  would  you  like  to  have 
the  young  lord  for  your  brother-in-law,  young  Bullfinch  ?" 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Jack,  stoutly.  "  It's  a  thing  not  to  be 
heard  of.  I'll  stand  for  Tom  Scarlet  against  the  world.  Be- 
sides, Lord  Doomsday  don't  like  brothers-in-law.  He  told 
me  so !" 

"  You  mean  he  don't  like  them  he  has  got.  "Well,  there's 
reasons  for  it.  They  want  to  come  it  over  him,  being  older 
than  he  is,  and  a  precious  sight  poorer.  They'd  like  to  win 
his  money  at  blind  hookey,  and  he  won't  let  'em,  so  no  love  is 
lost.  Scarlet  was  all  very  well.  Good  fellow  enough— the 
best  rider  in  the  Midlands.  But  he's  running  a  race  with  the 
d — 1,  and  it's  neck  and  neck,  if  he  isn't  dead  by  this  time." 

"Eosc,"  said  the  boy,  "I  love  my  sister;  I  have  always 
loved  her,  and  now  I  see  her  with  trouble  on  her  mind, 
I  would  give  anything  to  help  her.  I  am  sure  you  know 
more  about  what  the  sailors  said,  or  what  somebody  has  said, 
than  you  have  owned  up  to." 

"  Now,  by  the  bright  stars  that  shine  over  the  eastern  lands 
and  above  the  southern  seas,  where  my  boys  live — my  brothers 
— you  say  well.  Young  Jack.  If  I  consults  the  stars,  I  shall 
find  out  more  about  Tom  Scarlet,  and  Miriam,  and  the  other, 
and  what  not,  than  Sir  Jerry  would  get  out  of  them  sailor 


THE  WHITE  HOBSE  OF  WOOTTON.  297 

chaps  in  a  month  of  Sundays.  Them  fellows  can  hardly  be 
called  real  sailors.  Now,  I  have  got  a  man-o'-war's  man,  who 
went  aboard  at  fifteen,  or  a  little  less,  and  has  been  in  the 
service  eighteen  years.  Shall  I  consult  the  stars  about  Scar- 
let, and  him,  and  the  one  who  slew  the  man  on  horseback?" 

"  Never  mind  the  stars  now^  Look  here,  Kose !  Here  are 
five  guineas.  Take  them  and  tell  me  the  news,  good  or  bad. 
It  seems  to  me  that  if  Tom  Scarlet  is  killed,  my  sister's  heart 
will  break  and  I  shall  never  want  any  money  any  more,"  said 
Jack,  with  tears. 

"  Let  me  see  that  money  !"  said  the  gypsy,  violently.  "  It's 
honestly  come  by,  I'll  swear.  Boy,  put  that  money  up !  You 
remind  me  of  my  young  brother  Jim,  when  he  stood  with  Tom 
and  Elijah  at  the  bar  and  the  judge  pronounced  the  cruel  sen- 
tence, '  transportation  beyond  the  seas  for  the  term  of  fourteen 
years.'  Put  that  money  up,  I  say !  I  have  gold  galore.  Look 
here !" 

She  drew  forth  an  old  tea-caddy  and  poured  out  a  stream 
of  coined  gold  into  her  lap.  The  boy  looked  on  amazed,  but 
said  nothing,  and  she  returned  the  money  to  its  hiding-place. 

"Now,  be  secret  about  this  money,"  she  said.  "Nobody 
knows  of  it  but  you  and  me  and  Tom  and  Elijah,  who  sent  it 
from  Australia  to  your  father.  I've  hoarded  it  for  years  and 
years.     What  do  you  think  it's  for  ?" 

"  For  the  twins  and  the  other  children,  I  should  think,"  he 
replied. 

"  The  d — 1  a  bit.  Young  Jack  !  The  children's  uncles  in 
Australia  have  plenty  for  them.  This  is  for  their  young 
brother,  my  young  brother,  Jim  Cooper ;  the  bonniest  lad  that 
ever  snared  a  hare  or  took  a  duck's  nest.  O,  Young  Jack  I" 
she  exclaimed,  seizing  his  hand,  "  'tis  eighteen  years  since  that 
boy  stood  at  the  bar.  Eighteen  years  in  men-of-war,  all  over 
the  world,  and  now,  for  the  first  time,  he's  coming  home  again  ! 
I  always  knew  the  young  one  would  come.  I  never  thought 
the  others  would,  especially  after  I  found  they  had  so  much 
money." 

"  Rose,  I'm  very  glad  ;  and  I'll  say  nothing  about  the  gold," 
said  Young  Jack.  "  But  now,  since  you  feel  so  much  joy  over 
the  near  return  of  your  brother,  tell  me  all  you  know,  or  think, 
about  Tom  Scarlet.     Let  my  sister  and  me  rejoice  too,  if  it  is 


298  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

possible.  You  didn't  find  out  about  Jim's  return  from  the 
stars." 

"  You're  right,  I  did  not.  I  had  it  from  a  person  who  knows  ; 
one  who  saw  him  at  Halifax.  His  ship  was  about  to  sail  for 
England,  and  ought  to  be,  by  this  time,  in  the  Channel,  if  not 
anchored  off  Portsmouth." 

"  And  that  man  told  you  about  doubtful  news  for  my  sister 
May  from  a  sailor,  and  good  news  from  the  man  who  slew  the 
man  on  horseback?" 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort.  It  wasn't  a  man  that  told  me  at  all, 
but  a  woman — a  young  woman  who  expects  to  be  married  to  a 
man  now  at  sea,  but  running  in  for  the  land,  I  think." 

<«  Then  there's  no  hope  from  that  source,"  said  Jack,  de- 
sjDondiiigly. 

"  Jack,  my  boy !  my  good  boy  !  I  never  said  so.  It  may  be 
a  deal  better  than  you  think.  Nay,  I  am  sure  it  is.  Go  home 
and  keep  your  spirits  up.  By  that  means  you'll  comfort  your 
sister.  Be  of  cheer !  Look  at  them  twins,  and  at  Jenny's 
foal.  Care  killed  a  cat !  I  can't  say  any  more,  and  I  won't. 
When  you  see  or  hear  of  a  sailor  in  this  neighborhood — I 
mean  the  real  thing — man-of-war's  man,  captain  of  the  fore- 
top,  and  well-bekuown  to  the  Admiral — jump  on  Black  Hearty 
and  ride  to  me  as  if  the  d — 1  was  behind  you." 

"Thanks,  Rose!  Good-by !"  said  Young  Jack.  "I  see 
by  the  light  through  the  tent  that  the  dawn  is  breaking.  Shall 
I  tell  my  father  about  that  gold  ?  As  it  came  to  him,  I  sup- 
pose I  may  ?" 

"  Jack,  the  least  said  about  that  the  better,  until  Jim  ar- 
rives," said  the  gypsy.  "My  husband  is  very  w^ell  content 
now,  but  he  would  worrit  the  life  out  of  me  if  he  knew  how 
much  money  I  have.  Wait  till  Jim  comes  home.  You  may 
tell  your  father  that  he's  coming." 

"Ay,  coming  from  Halifax!"  said  Jack.  "Rose,  it  just 
strikes  me  this  moment  that  I've  heard  of  that  place  before." 

"  Very  likely  !     There's  a  tow^n  of  the  name  in  Yorkshire." 

"  Ay,  so  there  is,"  said  Jack,  "  but  there's  another  in  Nova 
Scotia,  Rose,  and  that's  in  America,  as  sure  as  my  name  is 
Bullfinch." 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  It's  a  thousand  mile,  very  likely  two 
thousand,  from  wdiere  the  sailors  sailed  from  that  said  the  man 
was  killed  and  Miriam  carried  oft'  by  the  Indian." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  299 

"  You  don't  believe  she's  carried  off,  do  you  ?" 
"  Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  don't,"  said  Rose.  "  Miriam 
is  a  spirited  girl — cousin  of  mine,  you  know,  and  isn't  likely 
to  be  carried  far  agaiust  her  will.  She's  more  likely  to  have 
carried  the  Indiau  off  than  he  is  to  have  carried  her.  Your 
sister  will  be  up  before  you're  home.  Mount  and  ride.  I'd 
give  you  the  stirrup-cup  if  you  ever  drank.  When  you  hear 
that  my  brother  Jim  is  in  the  countryside,  jump  on  your  horse, 
and  come  to  me  fit  to  split  the  wind.  Do  it !  And  look  at 
these  twins.  When  you  be  married  to  Meg  Southdown  she 
may  have  such  a  pair." 

"  I  say,  Rose,  none  o'  that.  We  are  both  very  young  at 
present — at  least,  Meg  is ;  and  I  know  that  when  we  are  mar- 
ried she  will  be  satisfied  with  one  at  a  time.    Good-morning." 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

"  O'er  capon,  heron-shaw,  and  crane, 
And  princely  peacock's  gilded  train, 
And  o'er  the  boar's  head  garnished  brave, 
And  cygnet  from  St.  Mary's  wave; 
O'er  ptarmigan  and  venison, 
The  priest  had  said  his  benison." 

AMONG  the  notable  discoveries  of  modern  times  in 
"  Merrie  England  "  there  is  one,  announced  by  several 
writers,  including  Mr.  Frank  Buckland,  to  the  effect  that  no 
Englishwoman  can  cook  a  dinner.  It  happened,  about  a  year 
ago,  that  this  lamentable  fact  was  brought  to  the  notice  of  a 
party  of  exiles  of  Albion,  who  were  dining  in  New  York — 
very  well,  as  they  ignorantly  supposed,  after  the  manner  of 
their  savage  and  uncultivated  ancestors — upon  roast  beef, 
boiled  mutton  and  caper  sauce,  ducks,  capons,  plum-pudding, 
mince-pie,  apricot-tarts,  etc.  This  repast,  coarse  and  vulgar 
as  it  must  have  been  according  to  Mr.  Buckland,  a  perfidious 
Englishwoman  had  pretended  to  cook,  and  the  benighted  com- 
pany actually  ate  it  with  relish.  Indeed,  they  treated  the  dis- 
covery of  Mr.  Buckland  with  that  sort  of  churlish  contempt 
with  which  the  precepts  of  the  wise  are  commonly  received  by 
the  vulgar.    One  old  fellow,  of  some  wealth  and  standing,  but 


300  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON, 

much  brutality,  proposed  that  the  writings  of  the  philosophers 
above  mentioned  should  be  searched,  over  the  wine,  for  the 
necessary  corollary  to  the  statement,  "  No  Englishwoman  can 
cook  a  dinner,"  which,  the  old  fellow  in  question  declared, 
must  be,  "no  Englishman  can  eat  a  dinner!"  The  books 
were  sent  for,  at  this  suggestion,  and  gone  through  by  the 
chairman,  but  somehow  or  another,  probably  from  haste  and 
carelessness,  the  necessary  corollary  was  not  found. 

It  may  be  that  no  Englishwoman  can  noiv  cook  a  dinner ; 
but  in  that  case,  what  with  normal  schools,  women's  rights, 
fish  museums  and  snug  sinecures  for  diletante  philosophers, 
the  culinary  art  has  been  much  neglected  of  late,  in  the  little 
islands  beyond  the  melancholy  main.  Forty  years  ago  it  was 
an  article  of  faith  with  the  gentlemen  and  fox-hunters  of  good 
appetite  and  renown  that  Englishwomen  could  cook  a  very 
good  dinner.  If  anybody  had  made  a  statement  to  the  con- 
trary in  the  kitchen  of  the  Barleyraow,  where  in  the  first 
week  of  January  the  buxom  landlady,  and  the  portly  cook 
who  presided  in  the  kitchen  of  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle,  were  engaged 
in  the  preparation  of  the  Hunt  Dinner,  it  would  have  been 
received  with  some  contempt,  to  say  nothing  of  hot  water. 
But  this  result  would  only  have  reminded  the  philosophers  of 
what  Tim  Moore  called  "  the  barbarism  of  the  English,  who 
peels  their  'taters  before  they  biles  'em." 

The  annual  dinner  of  the  hunt  was  always  one  of  the  great- 
est festivals  in  the  riding.  The  wits  of  the  BarleymoAV  wei'e 
yearly  threshed,  and  all  its  retainers,  from  the  fat  landlord  to 
ihe  smallest  waiting-maid,  were  annually  inspired  to  venture- 
some enterprise  and  exertion,  in  order  that  it  might  be  served 
with  the  profusion  and  excellence  demanded  by  such  an  oc- 
casion. Among  those  never  absent  from  the  time-honored 
festival  were  John  Bullfinch,  Mr.  Southdown,  and  about  a 
score  more  of  the  opulent  farmers  of  the  Vale  and  its  neigh- 
borhood, all  good  men  after  the  hounds  and  before  the  trencher. 
On  the  day  in  question  they  had  agreed  to  come  together  at 
Hawkwell,  and  ride  in  company  to  the  Barleymow,  where 
they  would  meet  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  and  other  country  gentle- 
men, the  Rev.  Mr.  Jericho  and  other  beneficed  clergymen. 
Major  Fitzgerald  and  other  officers  of  the  army  and  navy, 
Mr.  Doublefee,  and  some  other  gentlemen  of  the  learned  pro- 


THE  WHITE  HOBSE  OF  WOOTTON.  301 

fessions  from  the  neigh  ooring  towns.  There  might  be  ex- 
pected also  some  gentlemen  from  Oxford,  studeDts  at  that 
renowned  university,  aud  ardent  lovers  of  hunting  the  fox. 

John  Bullfinch  was  already  dressed  in  his  best ;  his  daughter 
had  surveyed  his  manly  figure  and  comely  face  wdth  pride  and 
affection.  He  had  kissed  her  twice,  and  was  about  to  do  so 
for  the  third  time,  when  the  stentorian  voices  of  Southdown 
and  the  others  who  "stuck  by  the  land"  and  followed  the  fox 
and  hounds,  summoned  him  to  the  gate.  In  spite  of  the  color 
which  glowed  in  her  cheek  and  of  the  light  which  kindled  in 
her  clear  blue  eye,  as  she  parted  from  her  father,  May  Bull- 
finch looked  anxious  and  careworn.  The  rumor  started  by 
the  sailors  and  blown  abroad  far  and  wide  by  the  indefatigable 
Parkins,  had  reached  her  and  filled  her  mind  with  doubt  and 
anxiety,  which  her  father  and  Young  Jack  were  unable  to 
relieve.  Sir  Jerry  had  overtaken  the  sailors  on  the  London 
road,  and  had  heard  all  the  information  they  were  able  to  im- 
part. They  told  what  the  baronet  called  "  a  cock-and-bull 
story"  of  a  fight  on  the  banks  of  a  river  in  the  far  West,  in 
which  an  Englishman  had  been  killed.  Two  of  them  thought 
the  man's  name  was  Tom  Scarlet,  but  the  other  said  it  was 
not.  They  had  heard  the  story  at  New  Orleans,  where  it  was 
told  them  in  a  drinking  place  by  an  acquaintance  of  one  who 
had  been  at  the  affray.  The  acquaintance  was  a  "  river  man" 
— meaning  one  employed  on  the  steamboats  which  navigate 
the  Mississippi  and  the  Arkansas — and  his  friend  at  the  fight 
was  "  a  gentleman  by  the  name  of  Keeps,"  who  had  made 
heroic  but  unavailing  efforts  to  save  the  Englishman's  life. 
The  third  sailor  maintained  that  the  name  of  the  man  men- 
tioned as  killed  was  not  Scarlet ;  but  he  said  that  three  or  four 
were  killed,  and  Scarlet  might  be  one  of  the  others.  He,  the 
sailor,  remembered  the  Admiral,  Sir  Jerry's  father-in-law,  very 
w^ell,  having  had  good  reason  to  do  so.  This  was  true,  if  two 
or  three  dozen  with  a  cat-o'-nine-tails  is  good  reason.  He 
would  have  been  glad  to  give  the  yarn  from  end  to  end,  "  right 
off  the  reel  and  without  a  kink,"  and  he  should  have  been 
able  to  do  so,  having  meant  to  return  and  question  the  river 
man  at  the  grog-shop  at  leisure,  but  unfortunately  he  was  that 
night  put  in  the  calaboose  for  knocking  a  Dutchman  down, 
and  never  got  out  until  he  was  taken  to  his  ship  by  the  police, 
just  as  her  sails  were  loose  and  her  anchor  awash. 


302  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

To  John  Bullfinch  this  was  very  unsatisfactory,  while  Mr. 
Southdown  admitted  that  he  could  make  nothing  of  it.  Sir 
Jerry,  in  his  opinion,  had  failed  to  keep  the  magistrate  and 
the  baronet  in  the  background,  and  had  not  brought  "  fbr'ard" 
the  Admiral's  daughter  as  he  ought  to  have  done. 

"  However,"  said  he  to  John,  "  the  main  p'int  is  settled. 
I  don't  care  who  was  killed — Tom  Scarlet  is  alive  and  well ! 
You  may  say  there's  no  evidence  of  it,  but  I  don't  care  for 
that.     My  mind's  made  up.     No  argeymeut  will  change  it." 

The  great  room  at  the  Barleymow  had  never  held  a  finer 
company  than  those  who  stood  up  while  the  Rev.  Mr.  Jericho 
said  grace.  The  apartment  was  ornamented  with  pictures, 
emblems  and  trophies  of  the  chase,  mingled  with  boughs  of 
holly  and  ivy  and  branches  of  the  laurel  green  from  Sir 
Jerry  Snaffle's  lawn.  Here  was  the  portrait  of  Gray  Goose, 
the  famous  mare  ridden  by  the  barcnet  himself  in  so  many 
long  and  hard  runs.  Here  was  that  of  Kilkenny,  the  favorite 
Irish  hunter,  which  carried  Major  Fitzgerald  so  well.  Here 
was  the  likeness  of  The  Waler,  the  wonderful  jumper  from 
Botany  Bay,  sent  over  from  New  South  Wales  to  Mr.  Sidney 
by  his  son.  Here  was  the  huntsman,  Old  Tom,  on  a  famous 
brown  horse,  the  picture  having  been  j^ainted  for  the  hunt, 
by  a  convivial  artist  who  had  run  up  a  score  at  the  Barley- 
mow,  which  the  fastest  and  stoutest  of  foxes  might  have  en- 
vied for  its  length.  Besides  all  these,  there  were  pictures  of 
John  Bullfinch  on  Cowslip ;  of  Mr.  Southdown  on  his  great 
weight-carrier.  The  Bullock ;  of  Tom  Scarlet  on  Danger. 

Then  there  were  portraits  of  famous  hounds,  the  heroes,  the 
favorites,  the  beauties  of  the  pack — Rallywood,  Ringwood, 
Ranter,  Rover,  and  Ranger,  Vengeance,  Velocity,  Virago, 
Veracity  and  Virtue.  Nor  were  the  exploits  of  the  vulpine 
race  forgotten.  Over  the  chair  of  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle,  as  he 
presided,  appeared  the  head  and  brush  of  that  famous  dog  fox 
which  had  run  twenty  miles,  at  a  racing  pace,  as  the  crow 
flies.  Over  that  of  the  vice-president.  Major  Fitzgerald,  an 
Irish  veteran,  with  but  one  arm  and  the  scar  of  a  deep  sabre 
cut  on  the  cheek,  were  those  of  the  celebrated  vixen  who  had 
three  times  fooled  the  pack  at  the  end  of  good  runs,  but  was 
at  last  viewed  effecting  the  usual  entrance  into  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Jericho's  church,  through  a  broken  window  among  the  ivy, 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  303 

after  which  it  was  her  custom  to  take  sanctuary  in  the  pulpit, 
and  sleep  as  sound  as  any  Christian  did  during  the  sermons 
of  that  learned  and  eloquent  divine.  In  short,  the  decorations 
of  the  dining  room  were  artistic  and  complete,  quite  in  keeping 
with  the  occasion,  in  the  opinion  of  everybody  who  saw  it 
except  Young  Jack.  On  being  shown  it  on  the  forenoon  of 
the  day  in  question,  Young  Jack  was  critical  touching  the 
paintings,  and  said : 

"  If  Lord  Doomsday  had  been  taken  on  Blue  Peter  and  I 
on  Young  Cowslip,  just  as  we  gave  the  death-halloo  when  the 
hounds  pulled  down  the  Fringford  Gorse  fox,  this  room  would 
have  looked  much  better  than  it  does  to-day." 

The  dinner  proper  was  over,  the  knives  and  forks  had  been 
removed,  the  ability  of  the  cook  had  been  mentioned  with 
approval,  and  the  company  had  settled  themselves  for  a  course 
of  that  steady  drinking,  which  was  the  custom  of  Englishmen 
at  hunting  dinners  forty  years  ago.  The  usual  and  loyal 
toasts  had  been  given  and  cordially  received,  and  now  there 
was  a  lull,  during  which  conversation  passed  upon  various 
topics  at  different  places  round  the  table.  Mr.  Doublefee  took 
advantage  of  it  to  address  his  clients,  John  Bullfinch  and 
Richard  Southdown,  who  were  seated  opposite  to  him,  and  in 
the  centre  of  the  farming  array. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  with  a  bland  smile,  "  have  you  heard 
that  there  is  soon  to  be  a  vacancy  in  the  representation  of  our 
county  in  Parliament  ?" 

They  had  not  heard  of  it.     Southdown  doubted  it. 

"  It  is  unquestionably  the  case,"  said  Mr.  Doublefee.  "  I 
have  it  from  the  best  authority.  Our  senior  member.  Sir 
Jasper  Jericho,  in  consequence  of  age  and  growing  infirmity, 
feels  compelled  to  retire  from  public  life." 

"  More's  the  pity!"  said  Mr.  Southdown,  solemnly. 

"  Sir,  you  may  well  say  so.  He  has  been  an  able  and  a  con- 
scientious member,"  replied  Mr.  Doublefee. 

"  He  stuck  to  the  land  and  defended  the  Constitution,"  said 
Southdown.  "  That's  what  is  wanted  in  times  like  these  here, 
when  all  sorts  of  doctrines  meet  us  on  every  hand." 

"  So  he  did.  Now,  as  to  his  successor,"  said  Mr.  Doublefee, 
in  his  most  insinuating  tone,  with  his  right  forefinger  in  the 
palm  of  his  left  hand,  and  leaning  over  towards  them  as  far  as 


304  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

the  table  would  allow.     "  I  think  there  will  not  be  much  dif- 
ference of  opinion  among  us  here." 

"  So  do  I/'  replied  Mr  Southdown  ;  and  he  added  in  his 
most  positive  manner,  "  Sir  Jerry's  the  man." 

"  Eh !  Sir  Jerry !"  Mr.  Doublefee  exclaimed,  with  evident 
surprise  and  some  embarrassment.  "  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  is  an 
excellent  man — good  landlord,  patriotic  in  sentiment,  highly 

respected,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  but " 

"  But  what  ?"  said  Southdown,  looking  Mr.  Doublefee  in 
the  eye. 

"  Why,  my  dear  sir,  and  you,  Mr.  Bullfinch,  both  gentlemen 
of  influence — of  very  great  and  deserved  influence  with  the 
intelligent  and  patriotic  gentlemen  of  your  a — a — class — who 
cast  five  out  of  six  of  the  votes  for  the  counties,  and  whose 
knowledge  and  integrity  form  one  of  the  strongest  bulwarks 
of  the  glorious  Constitution  in  Church  and  State — I  say  that 

you,  gentlemen — I  venture  to  say  to  you,  gentleme " 

"  Come  to  the  p'int !  We  have  heard  all  that  before  once 
or  twice  at  the  hustings.  You  come  to  the  p'int,"  said  South- 
down. 

"  I  am  coming  to  it,  my  very  dear  sir  and  esteemed  client," 
replied  Mr.  Doublefee,  in  a  coaxing  tone.  "  Don't  you  think 
that  Sir  Jerry's  abilities  and  virtues  are  much  more  appreciated 
here  than  they  would  be  in  Parliament — that  he  is,  in  fact, 
much  more  in  his  element  here,  if  I  may  so  speak,  than  he  would 
be  before  the — the — not  the  woolsack,  but  the  Speaker's  chair  V 
"No,  I  don't!"  replied  Southdown,  sternly. 
"  Lawyer,"  said  John  Bullfinch,  "  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  is  in  his 
proper  element  here — among  his  neighbors,  his  friends,  his 
tenants,  and  the  people  in  general  of  these  parts.  It  would 
be  very  hard  to  get  another  country  gentleman  like  Sir  Jerry 
that  is  equal  to  him  in  every  quality  a  country  gentleman 
should  have.  It's  easy  enough  to  get  a  tolerable  member  of 
P.adiament,  so  far  as  my  experience  goes.  But  it's  my  opinion 
that  Sir  Jerry  in  Parliament  would  tell  the  House  a  thing  or 
two,  now  and  then,  which  the  House  ought  to  know.  Not  this 
county  alone,  not  our  class  alone,  but  all  England,  would  be 
benefited  in  the  most  marked  degree,  by  having  Sir  Jerry  in 
Parliament.  It  would  be  like  bringing  in  a  strain  of  the  old 
blood  after  two  or  three  out-crosses." 


I 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK.  305 

"  Jest  so  !  my  sentiments  exactly.  Just  ^vl^at  I  was  a-going 
to  say  myself!"  cried  Southdown  with  exultation,  while  the 
other  farmers,  laughing  with  glee,  nodded  to  each  other  and 
took  wine. 

"  Therefore,"  said  John  Bullfinch,  "  seeing  that  we  could 
still  have  Sir  Jerry  among  us  for  about  nine  months  in  the 
year,  I  say  we  ought  to  be  willing  to  let  the  whole  of  the  coun- 
try have  the  benefit  and  assistance  of  his  long  experience  and 
uncommon  fine  talents  the  other  three." 

There  was  great  applause  around  John  as  he  finished.  Mr. 
Doublefee  looked  vexed  and  astounded  at  this  amazing  defec- 
tion of  the  men  he  had  considered  certain  to  support  his  views 
and  the  nice  little  plan  he  had  cut  and  dried  for  the  filling  of 
the  expected  vacancy.  His  temper  was  not  improved  by  the 
observation  of  Mr.  Fallowfield,  a  farmer  of  great  wealth,  one 
of  his  own  clients,  who  after  staring  at  him  intently  for  a  long 
time,  said,  "Lawyer  Doublefee,  you  be  put  down!  John  Bull- 
finch has  laid  'e  flat  o'  your  back." 

*'  Hem — the  gentleman  has  argued  well,  but  from  mistaken 
premises,"  replied  Mr.  Doublefee.  "  Sir  Jerry  will  not  stand 
for  the  county." 

"He  will  if  we  ask  him  ;  and  we  will  ask  him!  eh,  John? 
eh,  neighbor  Fallowfield  ?"  returned  Southdown. 

"  Gentlemen,  gentlemen,  I  beg  of  you  to  do  nothing  in 
haste,"  said  Mr.  Doublefee,  hurriedly.  "  The  fact  is,  that  a 
candidate  has  been  already  selected  and  agreed  upon." 

"  Who  by  ?"  asked  Southdown,  with  a  lowering,  brindle-bull 
sort  of  look  at  the  lawyer. 

"  Who  by !  why,  bless  my  soul,  gentlem.eu,  by  the  profes- 
sional classes — the  townsmen  and  constituents,  represented  by 
the  committee  which  agreed  upon  him." 

"  Then  I  say  let  the  professional  classes — townsmen  and 
what  not — elect  him,"   roared  Mr.   Southdown,  "  for  I'll  be 

d d  if  I  put  boot  in  stirrup  to  ride  for  any  such  purpose ! 

John  Bullfinch  and  above  five  hundred  more  will  say  the  same. 
Sir  Jerry's  the  man  !"  There  was  the  hum  of  approval  fall- 
ing like  a  knell  upon  the  ear  of  Mr.  Doublefee  from  the  score 
of  representative  men  who  sat  by  John  Bullfinch,  Southdown 
and  old  Fallowfield,  and  gloried  in  the  force  with  which,  as 
they  expressed  it,  Bullfinch  and  Southdown  had  floored  the 
20 


306  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

lawyer.  The  latter,  however,  was  determined  not  to  give  it 
up. 

"  The  time  and  place,"  said  he,  "  are  not  suitable  for  the 
dispassionate  argument  of  the  tj[uestion,  but  allow  me  to " 

"  I  won't  allow  nobody  to  argey  the  question  with  me,  sir," 
cried  Southdown.  "  My  mind's  made  up.  Sir  Jerry's  the 
man  for  me !" 

"  Exactly  so !"  cried  the  Irish  major.  "  O,  Sir  Jerry  is  the 
man  for  me !"  It  was  the  refrain  of  a  hunting  song,  a  great 
favorite  with  the  members  of  the  hunt,  composed  by  the  con- 
vivial artist  who  had  put  up  so  long  at  the  Barleymow,  and  who 
had  been  unanimously  voted  "  an  out-and-out  clever  fellow !" 

"  But  Mr.  Southdown,  Mr.  Bullfinch,  gentlemen  !"  said  Mr. 
Doublefee,  pathetically,  "  allow  me  to  state  who  it  was  that 
the — the — constituents  selected." 

"  It  don't  matter  who,  as  it  wasn't  our  man,"  replied  South- 
down.    "  Sir  Jerry  is  the  only  man." 

"  But  it  was  Lord  Doomsday  !"  said  Mr.  Doublefee,  impress- 
ively, and  leaning  back  in  his  chair  like  one  who  had  deliv- 
ered a  knock-down  blow  and  fallen  from  the  recoil. 

The  farmers,  one  and  all,  looked  at  Southdown  to  ascertain 
what  effect  this  coup  might  have  upon  their  redoubtable  cham- 
pion. It  was  not  such  as  Mr.  Doublefee  had  confidently  anti- 
cipated. 

"  I  don't  care  for  Lord  Doomsday — he's  a  sort  of  boy,"  said 
he,  doggedly.  "  None  of  us  care  for  him.  His  father's  land 
is  not  in  this  county.  H3  only  comes  here  to  hunt,  and  that 
but  seldom.     Sir  Jerry's  the  man  !" 

"  To  be  sure  he  is  !"  said  John  Bullfinch.  *'  Lord  Dooms- 
day's father  owns  a  great  deal  more  land  than  Sir  Jerry  does, 
but  it's  nothing  like  such  good  land.  And,  besides,  it  lies  a 
long  way  from  this  county.  Then,  again,  in  regard  to  the 
two  gentlemen  as  hunting  men,  which  must  be  considered  as 
having  great  weight.  Sir  Jerry  is  the  best  rider.  The  young 
lord  is  a  good  one,  for  a  light-weight  and  a  young  man  of  his 
experience,  but  Sir  Jerry  is  a  man  of  ten  thousand  in  a  real 
hunting  run.  My  son  Jack  is  the  only  one  who  dares  to  com- 
pare Lord  Doomsday  to  him.  Besides,  Lord  Doomsday  says 
he  does  not  want  to  enter  parliament  for  some  years  to  come. 
He  told  me  so  himself  at  Hawkwell.  Sir  Jerry  is  the  man 
for  this  county.     If  Tom  Scarlet  was  here  he  would  say  so." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  307 

In  grief  and  wrath,  while  the  ap])laiis3  which  followed  John's 
remarks  was  yet  humming,  Mr.  Doublefee  turned  to  his  right- 
hand  neighbor,  Doctor  Dose,  the  gentleman  with  whom  he  had 
the  colloquy  respecting  Tom  Scarlet,  mentioned  in  the  early 
part  of  this  history.  The  doctor's  memory  was  refreshed  by 
his  hearing  Tom  Scarlet's  name,  and  he  said  : 

"  Have  vou  heard  what  has  happened  to  that  Scarlet,  Mr. 
Doublefee  V' 

"  No  good,  I  venture  to  say,  if  he  has  met  with  his  deserts. 
What  about  him  ?"  said  the  lawyer. 

"  He's  dead,  that's  all,  and  a  good  riddance." 

"  When  and  where,  doctor  ?  and  did  he  die  intestate  ?  The 
Grange  is  a  very  snug  property,  and  there's  no  knowing  who 
may  be  the  next  in  succession  to  the  deceased." 

Mr.  Doublefee  put  these  questions  with  a  revival  of  cheer- 
fulness, and  the  learned  gentlemen  took  wine  together,  as 
though  toasting  the  next  heir,  whoever  he  might  be. 

"  When  and  where  he  died,  and  what  was  the  cause  of  death, 
I  cannot  exactly  say,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  In  all  probability 
there  was  no  post-mortem  examination,  perhaj^s  no  inquest; 
for,  though  he  died  by  violence,  it  was  somewhere  or  another 
in  America." 

"  Somewhere  or  another  in  America  !  That's  vague  doctor ! 
The  next  of  kin  could  hardly  eject  those  in  possession,  without 
more  definite  evidence  than  that.  The  deceased  may  turn  up 
again." 

"  I  know  he  may,"  said  Doctor  Dose,  "  for  the  vitality  of 
patients  of  that  stamp  is  amazing.  Nature  seems  to  have 
formed  their  economy  to  show  that  she  is  more  powerful  than 
science.  When  Scarlet's  crony,  Belcher,  was  shot  through  the 
right  lung,  I  attended  him.  You  would  have  thought  that 
would  have  killed  him,  if  anything  could,  but  he  recovered, 
and  refuses  to  pay  the  bill." 

"  What  a  villain  !  Recover,  and  not  pay  the  bill.  Why 
not  bring  your  action,  doctor?" 

"  He  pretends,"  said  Doctor  Dose, "  that  I  never  treated  him. 
If  so,  it  was  not  my  fault.  Scarlet  would  not  allow  me  to 
probe  the  wound.  Belcher  himself  refused  to  take  any  medi- 
cine." 

"  And  yet  recovered — shocking — shocking  !"  said  Double- 
fee. 


308  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

"  Scarlet,  however,"  said  the  doctor,  "  will  not  be  likely  to 
turn  up  again.  If  he  is  dead  or  permanently  detained  abroad 
by  other  causes,  it  will  be  an  excellent  thing  for  this  neigh- 
borhood and  county.  Pheasants  will  be  more  plentiful,  poach- 
ers more  scarce.  The  fellow  was  a  poacher  and  a  friend  to 
poachers.  Whenever  one  was  in  jail,  his  wife,  sister  or  mother, 
as  the  case  might  be,  always  flew  to  the  Grange  for  relief  and 
encouragement.  It  will  be  a  good  thing  if  Scarlet  never 
comes  back." 

Mr.  Doublefee  nodded  approval,  and  took  wine  with  the 
doctor.  The  farming  interest  opposite  looked  sullen  and  glum. 
Relief  was  at  hand,  however,  from  an  unexpected  quarter. 
Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  had  heard  a  great  deal  of  the  doctor's  dis- 
course and  determined  to  interpose. 

**■  Doctor  Dose,"  said  he,  "  were  you  S23eaking  of  one  of 
your  ow^n  patients,  just  now?" 

The  doctor  looked  confused,  and  with  some  hesitation,  re- 
plied, "  No  patient  of  mine,  Sir  Jerry,  but  Tom  Scarlet." 

The  baronet's  eyes  dilated  like  those  of  one  of  the  feline 
tribe  about  to  spring.  The  reddish  brown  whiskers  seemed 
to  curl  at  their  ends.  With  a  frown  upon  his  brow,  and  a 
flush  all  over  his  handsome  face,  he  rose,  pushed  back  his 
chair,  and  stood  erect  before  the  company  of  which  he  seemed 
the  king.     His  w'as  a  noble  presence. 

"  Silence,  gentlemen !"  cried  the  Irish  major,  "  silence,  for 
Sir  Jerry  Snaffle,  President  of  our  hunt !" 

"  Gentlemen  and  friends,"  said  Sir  Jerry ;  I  purpose  to 
make  a  few  remarks,  and  to  conclude  with  a  toast,  which  I 
hope  and  believe  will  not  be  unacceptable."  ["  Good ;  go 
on."]  "  At  our  annual  dinners,  as  you  are  all  well  aware, 
the  majority  are  hunting  men.  A  few  gentlemen,  however, 
generally  do  us  the  honor  to  be  our  guests,  who  are  not  hunt- 
ing men.  They  are  none  the  less  welcome.  But  they  do  not 
understand  as  we  do  the  sentiments  which  bind  us  together — 
the  feelings  which  grow^  up  through  fellowship  in  the  hunting 
field,  between  good  riders  and  keen  sportsmen  of  whatever 
degree." 

Major  Fitzgerald. — "  Hear !    Hear !    How  should  they  ?" 

"  To  the  want  of  this  understanding  of  this  fellows-feeling 
I  attribute  the  remarks  I  heard  made  by  Dr.  Dose  concerning 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  309 

one  who  is  now  absent,  but  who  was  seldom  ot  never  behind 
at  the  end  of  a  hard  run,  if  he  was  at  the  meet.  I  allude  to 
Tom  Scarlet!" 

Great  applause  from  everybody,  except  Mr.  Doublefee  and 
Doctor  Dose ;    but  especially  from  the  major. 

Sir  Jerry  continued :  "  Doctor  Dose  says  Tom  Scarlet  is 
dead ;  that  if  he  is  not  dead,  it  is  to  be  hoped  he  will  never 
come  back  here ;  that  his  death  or  permanent  absence  would 
be  a  good  thing  for  this  neighborhood  and  this  county :  that 
pheasants  would  be  more  plentiful ;  that  he  was  a  notorious 
poacher,  and  a  friend  to  poachers  and  their  families ;  that  he 
was  a  bad  fellow  generally,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  we  shall  never 
see  him  again.     Gentlemen,  is  that  true  ?" 

A  "  No !"  which  almost  shook  the  pictures  in  their  frames 
was  the  answer  all  around  the  room,  and  Mr.  Southdown,  in  a 
voice  like  the  bellow  of  one  of  his  own  bulls,  cried :  "  All 
lies !" 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Sir  Jerry,  in  a  louder  and  more  ani- 
mated tone,  as  though  be  had  get  what  the  company  would 
have  called  second  wind,  "  Tom  Scarlet  is  not  dead.  Neither 
his  death  nor  his  permanent  absence  is  to  be  apprehended  or 
desired.  Gentlemen,  we  know  the  man  !  We  have  seen  him 
go  at  many  a  thick  bullfinch  and  sail  over  many  a  wide  brook. 
A  better  rider  never  sat  in  pigskin."    (Great  cheers.) 

Tlie  Major. — "  A  man  of  ten  thousand,  and  always  behaved 
like  a  gentleman.  Picked  me  up  before  I  was  down,  when 
me  horse  was  knocked  over  by  a  tailor  from  Tooley  street  on 
a  runaway  black  mare." 

Sir  Jerry  continued :  "  Tom  Scarlet  may  have  a  fault  or 
two.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  he  is  quite  perfect ;  but  when 
he  returns,  if  he  should  bring  an  action  for  defamation  of 
character,  it  will  be  very  difficult  for  Doctor  Dose  to  prove 
to  a  jury  of  this  country  that  he  is  a  notorious  poacher." 

The  doctor  got  pale  and  red  by  turns.  He  appealed  to  Mr. 
Doublefee  by  a  look,  but  that  gentleman  resolved  not  to  see  it, 
and  nodded  to  John  Bullfinch,  as  though  to  signify,  "Sir  Jerry 
had  him  there — upon  the  legal  points  involved,  Sir  Jerry  has 
the  best  of  it." 

The  baronet  continued  :  "  Something  has  been  said  by  Doc- 
tor Dose  about  pheasants.     Pheasants  are  very  good " 


310  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

The  Major. — "  Nothing  better,  roasted,  with  bread  sauce  and 
the  right  kind  of  gravy.  That  I  ate  of  here  was  done  to  a 
turn  !" 

"  But  in  a  part  of  the  country  like  ours,"  said  Sir  Jerry, 
"  there  are  other  things  to  be  considered  besides  pheasants  and 
pheasant-shooting.  Need  I  say  I  mean  fox-hunting  and  farm- 
ing, hounds  and  foxes,  horses  and  men  ?  Without  fox-hunting 
your  men  wdll  degenerate  in  pluck." 

The  Major. — "  True  for  you  !  'Twas  and  is  the  opinion  of 
the  Duke.  His  best  men  at  Waterloo  were  fox-hunters.  I 
know  it.  'Twas  there  I  lost  me  arm  and  got  this  slash  in  the 
cheek  from  the  sabre  of  a  cuiraissier.  (Hear,  hear !  from  Mr. 
Doublefee.) 

Sir  Jerry  resumed :  "  Without  hunting  your  best  breeds 
of  riding-horses  would  soon  be  done  for;  because  there  w^ould 
be  nobody  to  buy  one  worth  more  than  twenty  pounds." 

The  farmers  looked  at  each  other  with  alarm,  and  regarded 
Doctor  Dose  with  displeasure,  as  if  he  was  an  enemy  to  fox- 
hunting ;  wdiereas,  some  of  his  best  cases  had  arisen  through 
accidents  in  the  hunting-field. 

Sir  jerry  went  on  :  "  The  noble  hounds,  in  which  we  take 
so  much  pride,  would  be  replaced  with  sheep-killing  mongrels. 
Your  foxes,  famed  for  swiftness,  stoutness  and  craft,  would 
become  mere  sneaks — robbers  of  henroosts  round  the  home- 
steads— instead  of  bold  outlyers  in  the  gorses  of  the  heaths. 
Shall  the  breed  of  men,  horses,  hounds  and  foxes  degenerate 
in  and  about  this  famous  vale  ?"  ("  No !"  from  the  company, 
with  uncommon  vigor,  Mr.  Doublefee  joining  in  as  loud  as  any 
one.) 

"  Very  well,  then,  you  will  unite  with  me  in  the  hope  that 
Tom  Scarlet  will  speedily  return,"  said  Sir  Jerry. 

Mr.  Doublefee  had  now  turned  his  back  on  the  doctor  and 
regarded  Sir  Jerry  with  a  mixture  of  surprise  and  delight.  It 
sprang  from  his  admiration  at  the  art  of  Sir  Jerry  in  so  pre- 
senting the  case  to  the  jury,  as  Mr.  Doublefee  said  to  himself, 
as  to  make  Scarlet,  fox-hunting,  and  the  preservation  of  the 
superior  breeds  of  men,  horses,  hounds  and  foxes  seem  all  one. 
Perhaps  the  worthy  baronet  scarcely  knew  himself  how^  well 
he  had  done  this ;  but  Mr.  Doublefee,  accustomed  to  listen  to 
barristers  of  much  art  and  eloquence,  upon  the  circuit,  knew 
it  very  well,  and  appreciated  it. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N.  311 

Sir  Jerry  continued :  "  I  hope,  then,  that  Tom  Scarlet  will 
soon  come  back.  Instead  of  his  permanent  absence  being  a 
good  thing  for  our  neighborhood,  it  would  be  a  very  bad  thing 
— great  misfortune.  His  absence,  so  far,  we  have  been  able  to 
bear ;  but  if  he  is  away  much  longer  I  do  not  know  what  the 
consequences  may  be.  Gentlemen,  what  are  the  facts  ?  You 
know,  that  to  maintain  the  reputation  and  exalt  the  honor  of 
our  hunt,  I  made  a  steeple-chase  match  for  a  thousand  guineas 
a  side." 

The  Major. — "  So  he  did,  with  the  Juke  of  Jumpover.  I 
was  at  the  making  of  it,  and  it  was  a  good  thing  to  do." 

Sir  Jerry  continued  :  "  The  conditions  are,  five  miles  through 
the  Vale,  gentlemen  riders,  horses  that  were  hunted  in  the 
Midlands  or  the  Vale  of  White  Horse  last  year,  weights  ten 
stone  ten.  'Tis  to  come  off  in  March.  Now,  how  stands  this 
matter?  At  every  meet  in  Northamptonshire,  Leicestershire, 
and  Warwickshire  they  lay  odds  on  the  Duke,  when  the  real 
truth  is,  that  my  horse  couldn't  lose  it  if  Tom  Scarlet  was  here 
to  ride  him." 

Tlie  Major. — "  Be  me  soul  'tis  truth,  every  word  Sir  Jerry 
says,  and  if  the  young  man  is  dead  or  does  not  come,  I  am  in 
for  a  hundred  myself." 

"  Sir,"  said  Mr.  Southdown,  with  much  volume  and  emphasis 
of  voice,  "  the  young  man  is  not  dead.  He's  alive  and  well. 
If  you  think  he's  dead,  on  account  of  what  these  here  wandering 
sailors  said,  about  the  fight  and  the  Dutchman  and  the  cala- 
boose, you  can  do  so.  I  shan't  argey  the  p'int.  It  aint  worth 
while,  because  Tom's  alive  and  welL  You  can't  kill  a  man 
by  argeyment,  leastways  not  till  he  comes  to  be  tried  for  his 
life." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Sir  Jerry,  "  I  propose  health  and  pros- 
perity to  Tom  Scarlet,  and  may  he  speedily  return  to  this 
country !" 

The  toast  was  drunk  with  a  thundering  hurrah.  John 
Bullfinch  blew  his  nose  very  hard  with  a  red  silk  handkerchief, 
while  Mr.  Southdown,  looking  at  his  lawyer,  said  with  great 
deliberation,  "  Sir  Jerry  is " 

"  The  man !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Doublefee.  «  There  is  no  doubt 
about  it,  sir.  His  eloquence  will  do  honor  to  the  county  in 
Parliament,  sir.  At  another  time  I  will  enlarge  upon  this. 
I  have  now  something  to  say  to  Doctor  Dose." 


312  TEE  WEITE  EORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

In  the  great  applause  and  satisfaction  which  had  prevailed 
at  the  end  of  Sir  Jerry's  speech  the  doctor  would  probably  have 
escaped  further  observation,  if  Mr.  Doublefee  had  been  willing 
to  let  him  alone.  But  he  was  not.  He  had  determined  to  go 
over  to  the  other  side,  bag  and  baggage,  and  to  signalize  his 
change  of  front  forthwith.  The  learned  gentleman,  indeed, 
resolved  to  act  like  the  Bavarian  artillery,  who  not  only  de- 
serted Napoleon  in  the  heat  of  a  great  and  decisive  battle,  but 
halted  half  way  between  his  lines  and  those  of  the  Allied  Pow- 
ers, unlimbered  their  guns,  and  delivered  a  destructive  fire 
into  his  shattered  and  wavering  ranks. 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Doublefee,  with  a  truculent  air,  as  he 
rose  and  faced  Doctor  Dose,  "look  at  me,  sir,  and  at  the — the 
honorable  court  and  intelligent  jury,  I  was  about  to  say,  but 
this  shall  be  reserved  for  a  future  and  more  impressive  occa- 
sion, sir,  and  I  will  now  say,  the  honorable  chairman  and 
worthy  company.  What  have  you  to  say  for  yourself,  sir  ? 
What  excuse  do  you  mean  to  offer  ?  What  pretext  will  you 
allege  for  the  base,  false  and  malicious  attack  you  have  made 
upon  the — the  highly  respectable  and — and  exemplary  young 
man,  whose  absence  is  so  much  to  be  deplored — Tom  Scarlet  ?" 

If  the  floor  beneath  the  doctor  had  opened  and  disclosed  a 
yawning  pit,  he  could  scarcely  have  been  more  astounded  than 
he  was  by  Doublefee's  defection  and  address.  He  looked  at 
his  assailant  with  dumb  amazement  for  a  few  moments,  and 
faltered  out,  "  Me!  why  it  was  you,  you  know,  who  said  that 
Scarlet " 

"  Come,  sir !  come,  come,  sir !  equivocation  will  not  do  ;  pre- 
varication will  hardly  serve  your  turn  here,  sir,  and  neither 
will  avail  when  the  case  comes  on  for  trial  in  the  Common 
Pleas,  or  King's  Bench,  or  at  the  assizes.  As  Sir  Jerry  Snaf- 
fle so  well  observed  in  his  forcible,  eloquent  and  feeling  speech, 
the  damages  will  be  heavy — very  heavy — when  the  action  is 
brought,  and  the  case  is  tried  by  an  enlightened  jury  who  know 
the  value  of  an  Englishman's  character,  sir.  I  shall  no  doubt 
be  attorney  for  the  plaintiff',  sir,  and  it  will  be  my  painful  duty 
to  set  forth  in  the  brief  I  shall  furnish,  the  express  malice 
which  impelled  your  observations.  You  had  better  make  a 
clean  breast  of  it,  sir,  and  throw  yourself  upon  the  mercy  of 
the  court — company,  company,  in  order  that  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle, 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO  K.  313 

and  the  other  friends  of  Mr.  Scarlet,  may  intercede  with  him, 
on  your  behalf,  when  he  returns  !" 

Mr.  Doublefee  would  have  gone  on  at  great  length,  but  Sir 
Jerry  and  Major  Fitzgerald  interposed.  The  hilarity  of  the 
eveniutr  was  resumed  and  continued  to  a  late  hour. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

The  day  is  cold  and  dark  and  dreary, 
It  rains,  and  the  wind  is  never  weary.'' 


IT  was  a  dark,  damp  and  dreary  morning  when  the  Eir- 
mingham  coach  left  the  Saracen's  Head,  in  the  heart  of 
London,  for  its  daily  journey  through  the  Midland  counties  to 
the  metropolis  of  the  hardware  manufacture  and  trade.  The 
passengers  were  few,  and  they  seemed  to  be  rather  depressed 
and  disconsolate — an  effect,  perhaps,  of  the  weather.  Just 
before  the  coach  started  two  sailors  came  hastily  up,  with  a 
bag  and  a  bundle.  The  shorter  of  the  two,  a  broad-shoul- 
dered, pock-marked  man,  rushed  into  the  booking  office  and 
then  rushed  out  again,  exclaiming, "  Inside  or  outside?"  "On 
deck  !  on  deck  !  even  if  they  charge  more  for  it,"  was  the  re- 
ply of  the  other  sailor.  "  We  don't  want  to  be  stowed  between 
decks  on  this  uncommon  lovely  moruiug."  The  speaker  was 
tall,  graceful,  and  well-proportioned,  without  being  stout.  His 
complexion  was  very  dark,  and  his  eyes  w^ere  black  and  bright. 
His  luggage  consisted  only  of  a  bundle  tied  up  in  a  silk  hand- 
kerchief. Yet  he  was  well  dressed.  His  monkey-jacket  of 
pilot  cloth  was  new,  and  the  suit  of  blue  he  wore  underneath 
was  also  new,  and  cut  in  the  smartest  and  most  natty  nautical 
style.  Any  sailor  would  have  seen  at  a  glance  that  this  was  a 
man-of-war's  man,  though  the  landsmen  would  have  perceived 
no  difference  between  him  and  a  sailor  just  paid  off  from  an 
ludiaman  at  Blackwall.  He  wore  a  tarpaulin  hat — that  is, 
one  so-called,  for  there  was  no  tarpaulin  about  it.  The  super- 
structure was  of  the  finest  Bombay  sinnet,  covered  with  fine 
silk,  and  painted  a  glossy  black.  He  was  an  active  man,  for 
with  a  mere  touch  of  his  fingers  to  the  rail  he  vaulted  to  his 
seat,  the  one  beside  the  guard.  Cox,  the  man  of  the  race- 
course, and  of  the  fight  at  Baltimore,  sat  opposite.     Before 


314  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

they  had  left  the  pavements  of  the  metropolis  and  the  suburbs 
which  lie  beneath  its  vast  smoky  canopy,  the  rain  began  to  fall 
sluggishly ;  and  when  they  reached  the  open  country  to  the 
north  and  west,  it  had  set  in  for  a  regular  rainy  day.  Every- 
thing appeared  to  be  in  soak.  The  earth,  the  air,  the  sky, 
seemed  to  be  saturated  with  the  ooze  of  the  English  and  St. 
George's  Channels,  and  that  of  the  German  Ocean.  The 
sailors  sat  with  the  collars  of  their  nionkey-jackets  up  around 
their  ears,  and  said  but  little.  Even  the  guard  was  taciturn. 
Cox  observed  that  the  weather  was  not  much  like  that  in  the 
Gulf,  and  the  other  replied,  or  in  the  Bay  of  Bengal  or  the 
Mediterranean.  With  this  they  relapsed  into  silence,  and 
smoked  their  short  pipes  and  Cavendish  tobacco  incessantly. 
Whenever  the  coach  stopped  to  change  horses,  the  sailors 
called  for  brandy,  and  treated  the  coachman  and  guard.  Be- 
sides this,  they  had  recourse,  at  intervals,  to  certain  flat  bottles 
extracted  from  the  pockets  of  their  monkey-jackets.  The  bottle 
of  the  man-of-war's  man  contained  arrack  ;  from  that  of  Cox 
arose  the  rich  flavor  of  fine  old  schnapps.  Altogether  it  was 
a  dreary  ride,  like  a  watch  on  the  Grand  Banks,  they  said, 
and  when  they  descended  from  the  Chiltern  Hills  into  the 
vales  below%  the  weather  got  worse  rather  than  better.  At 
Tring  and  at  Aylesbury  the  rain  was  still  falling  fast,  but  it 
had  held  up  a  little  when  they  reached  the  vicinity  of  Woot- 
ton  and  Ridingcumstoke.  But  the  waters  were  out  in  the  low^ 
meadows,  and  the  brooks  ran  swift  and  turbid,  full  to  the 
banks.  In  passing  a  heavy  carrier's  wagon,  with  its  slow 
strong  team  of  gigantic  cart  horses,  the  coach  was  pulled  ofi" 
the  hard  road  and  almost  upset  into  the  ditch  to  the  left. 

"  There,"  said  the  dark  sailor,  "a  little  more  and  he  would 
have  brought  her  by  the  lee.  I  say,  Cox,  this  is  the  place.  I 
know  it  is,  though  the  country  seems  changed.  The  fields  are 
smaller,  and  the  woods  are  not  as  big  as  the  old  woods  were  in 
my  time." 

"  A  natural  consequence  of  following  the  sea,"  replied  Cox. 
"  When  a  man  on  the  lookout,  or  what  not,  casts  his  eyes  al- 
most constantly  over  miles  and  miles  of  blue  water,  it  improves 
their  range,  and  the  big  expanse  of  the  ocean  makes  the  old 
things  at  home  on  the  land  appear  to  be  very  small.  But,  as 
you  say,  here  we  be." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  315 

Without  more  ado  the  meu  dismounted  at  a  cross  roads,  and 
bade  farewell  to  the  coachman  and  guard. 

"  Now,  Jim,"  said  Cox,  "  you  see  there's  a  great  advantage 
iu  getting  down  at  a  cross  roads.  If  any  inquisitive  body  tries 
to  find  out  which  road  you  took,  it's  two  to  one  he  can't  do  it." 

"  Well,  which  are  we  going  to  take  ?" 

"  Nar'a  one,"  said  Cox.  "  You  give  me  that  bag  careful 
after  I  get  through  this  hedge.     Then  come  on  yourself." 

Thereupon  that  worthy  forced  his  way  through  the  fence, 
and  having  received  his  bag,  struck  across  the  sodden,  soggy 
field  towards  a  smoke  which  arose  from  a  clump  of  trees  at  a 
distance.  It  was  not  from  a  gypsy  camp,  but  from  the  chim- 
ney of  a  hedge  ale-house,  one  of  those  places  in  which  the 
landlord  was,  in  the  elegant  and  perspicuous  language  of  the 
Act  of  Parliament,  "  Licensed  to  sell  ale  and  beer  by  retail, 
and  to  be  drunk  on  the  premises."  Just  then,  however,  he 
was  not  drunk  on  the  premises,  for  the  sailors  found  no  one 
present  save  the  landlady,  a  comely  woman,  and  four  or  five 
shock-headed  children.  The  sailors  took  seats  on  a  bench  near 
the  bright  sea-coal  fire,  and  called  for  ale.  The  landlady 
quickly  brought  a  foaming  quart,  which  Cox  warmed  by 
plunging  a  red-hot  poker  into  it.  Could  the  sailors  have  din- 
ner? They  could.  Gammon  of  bacon  and  ducks'  eggs  fried. 
Nothing  better  for  dinner  at  a  roadside  house  on  a  rainy  day 
in  all  the  Midlands,  unless,  indeed,  the  landlady  should  happen 
to  have  in  her  larder  chops  off"  the  loin  of  one  of  the  great 
breed  of  Cotswold  and  Lincoln  sheep,  for  which  the  vales  were 
famous  far  and  wide.  The  dinner  was  quickly  and  beautifully 
cooked,  and  forthwith  served  with  the  large  country  loaf  of 
the  neighborhood,  and  the  fresh  butter  of  the  vale.  Then  the 
sailors  ate,  and  the  conversation  began.  Where  was  the  mis- 
sus' man  ?  He  had  gone  hunting  afoot  after  the  hounds  the 
day  before,  and  had  not  returned.  Did  missus  miss  him  ?  In 
one  way  she  did,  but  in  another  it  was  a  relief  to  have  him  out 
of  the  way.  Was  there  a  gypsy  camp  in  the  neighborhood  ? 
There  might  be  and  there  might  not.  Did  the  missus  know 
Rose  Tanner  ?  She  thought  she  did.  Was  Rose  in  the  neigh- 
borhood? The  missus  considered.  She  looked  hard  at  Cox 
and  liarder  at  the  other  sailor.  She  couldn't  exactly  say,  un- 
less sh3  was  sure  that  what  she  said  would  do  Rose  no  harm. 


816  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

"  Harm !"  said  Cox  ;  "  why,  we  be  her  best  friends.  This 
mate  o'  mine  here's  her  brother." 

"  Lord  save  us !  Be  this  Rose's  brother  ?  I  thought  he  was 
jest  like  her.     But  which  on  'em !" 

"  Why,  the  sailor  man,  to  be  sure — Jim  Cooper,  the  young- 
est of  the  brothers." 

"  I've  always  heard  Rose  speak  of  him  as  a  boy,  and  this  is 
a  proper  grown  man,"  said  the  landlady. 

"  Well,  missus,  I  was  a  boy  when  I  went  aw^ay,  and  Rose 
was  but  a  gal.  But  boys  and  gals  grow  up,  afloat  or  ashore. 
It's  eighteen  years  since  I  saw  Rose,  or  she  saw  me.  Where 
is  she?  .and  is  she  well?" 

"She  was  never  better.  She's  got  twins,  as  like  as  two 
peas,  and  she  is  in  favor  with  the  gentry,  I  hear.  The  shep- 
herds and  ploughmen  who  come  here  for  their  ale  o'  nights 
say  that  Lord  Doomsday  gave  her  twenty  guineas  for  the 
twins  on  Christmas  eve.  Her  husband,  Jack  Tanner,  is  off 
after  the  hounds  with  my  man.  Rose's  camp  is  t'other  side 
the  woods,  on  the  heath.  It'll  soon  be  dusk,  and  if  you're 
a-going  there  to-night,  you  had  best  be  moving." 

"  Ay,  ay,  missus,  I'm  thankful  for  the  news,"  said  Cooper. 
"  We're  going  there,  sure  enough  ;  but  we  will  have  a  pot  and 
a  pipe  before  we  start.  I  must  consider  things  a  minute.  A 
man's  feelings  ain't  many  fathom  deep  when  the  lead  is  really 
hove  for  'em.  I  say,  Cox,  you  never  mentioned  them  twins. 
I  could  have  bought  something  for  them  in  Lunnon.  I  saw 
a  great  many  beautiful  things  for  sale  on  Tower  Hill." 

*'  All  infernal  trash.  Just  as  counterfeit  as  the  money  the 
coves  make  down  here  at  Brummagem,  and  not  half  as  useful. 
You  give  Rose  the  money  you  want  to  spend  upon  her  chil- 
dren, and  she  will  lay  it  out  well." 

"  That  she  will,"  said  the  landlady.  "  Why,  at  the  fairs 
and  races  her  gals  wears  gold  necklaces,  the  envy  of  some  of 
the  people  of  quality.  Says  I  to  a  Jew  peddler,  says  I,  in 
this  very  room,  *  Be  them  necklaces  Rose  Tanner's  daaters 
wears  gold  ?'  '  Missus,'  said  he,  '  they  be,  and  fine  gold  at 
that.'  " 

She  forgot  to  say  that  he  added,  "  As  fine  as  dese  chains  and 
earrino-s  and  brooches,  vot  I  sells  for  half  de  walues." 

After  some  further  conversation  the  men  left  the  house,  re- 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  317 

gained  the  road,  and  turned  up  a  lane  on  the  other  side  of  it, 
along  which  they  strode  in  silence  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile. 
Then  a  small  field  only  intervened  between  them  and  the 
boundaries  of  the  great  preserves.  They  looked  through  the 
leafless  hedge,  and  saw  hundreds  of  hares  and  pheasants  out 
of  the  coverts  upon  the  young  wheat.  As  if  fascinated  by 
the  sight,  the  sailors  stood  and  gazed.  They  then  looked  each 
other  in  the  face,  and  Cox  said  : 

"  Our  nearest  way  is  through  this  part  of  the  woods.  It's 
half  an  hour,  plain  and  rapid  sailing,  and  then  we  shall  strike 
the  heath  just  where  we  want  to  be  to  see  the  light  of  the 
camp-fire." 

"  Ay,  ay,  I  know,"  replied  Cooper.  "  But  this  is  just  about 
the  place  where  they  came  down  upon  us  that  time,  and  we 
three  got  fourteen  years  apiece." 

"  Yes,  Jim,  but  the  job  had  been  put  up  beforehand,  and 
the  keepers  knew  just  where  to  look  for  you.  From  what 
I've  heard  since,  Tom  of  Lincoln  whistled  on  the  plan.  He 
turned  against  Jack  Cotswold  since,  and  cut  and  run  along 
with  Jagger.  He's  still  enough  now\  A  fellow  settled  his 
hash  at  Orleans  with  five  inches  of  steel.  The  place  is  here 
as  still  and  lonely  as  if  foot  had  never  trod  it.  Besides  it's 
nothing  but  trespass  anyhow — simple  trespass,  and  we  won't 
go  round.     Follow  me  !'^ 

In  another  minute  or  two,  they  passed  through  the  strag- 
gling fence  into  the  woods  and  walked  rapidly  forward.  At 
the  edge  of  a  sort  of  open  glade  Cox  paused,  and  placed  his 
bag  upon  the  moss  at  the  foot  of  a  large  and  very  old  oak 
tree. 

"Jim,"  said  he,  in  a  whisper,  pointing  to  a  tall  larch  which 
grew  in  the  glade,  "  look  up  there !" 

"I  see 'em,"  said  Cooper,  "and  it's  very  tempting;  still, 
it's  fourteen  years  if  they  grab  us." 

"  Not  at  all.  It's  only  three  or  six  months  in  the  daytime, 
and  nobody  can  prove  that  it's  night  yet.  Besides,  there's 
nobody  here  to  grab  us.  We  shall  be  upon  the  heath  before 
old  Moleskin  gets  anywhere  near  here,  and  I'll  have  a  brace 
if  I  die  for  it." 

AVith  this  he  drew  the  stock  and  short  barrels  of  a  handy 
little  gun  from  among  the  clothes  and  contents  of  his  dunnage 
bag,  and  quickly  fitted  the  barrels. 


318  TEE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

"  Very  well,  fire  away,  Flanigan !"  said  the  gypsy,  with  all 
his  ancient  ardor  for  the  old  methods  revived  in  full  and  over- 
powering force. 

Bang !  bang  !  went  the  gun,  and  down  came  two  pheasants 
from  their  roost  on  the  horizontal  branches  of  the  larch,  while 
the  others  went  whirring  away  among  the  tree-tops.  The  gun 
and  the  game  were  hastily  placed  in  the  bag,  and  the  men, 
stooping  low  and  walking  rapidly,  with  caution  approached 
the  outside  of  the  wood.  They  were  about  to  congratulate 
each  other  on  their  success,  when  from  the  thick  fern  and  briars 
of  a  swale  up  jumped  two  men  with  a  big  mastiff  dog  and  col- 
lared them. 

"  Mind,"  said  Cox,  as  Moleskin  tightened  his  grip  upon  the 
collar  of  his  jacket,  "  we  offer  no  resistance.  We're  merely 
travellers  that  have  lost  our  way,  and  it's  nothing  more  than 
trespass,  if  it's  that." 

"  That'll  do,  Cox,"  said  Moleskin,  at  the  voice.  "  Where's 
your  gun  ?     And  where's  yours,  young  fellow  ?" 

"Mine's  in  this  bag,"  replied  Cox,  "  and  unloaded, which  is 
perhaps  lucky  for  somebody.  This  man  never  had  one,  and 
he  is,  I  may  say,  a  stranger  to  me.  Never  met  before  yester- 
day." 

"  We  shall  see,"  said  the  keeper.  <'  What  the  d — 1  brings 
you  sailors  here  anyhow  ?" 

"  I  think  it  was  the  d — 1,"  said  Cooper,  "  for  we  had  no  use 
for  the  birds,  and  if  they  had  not  come  in  our  way  we  should 
have  been  out  of  this  before  now." 

The  keeper  looked  closely  at  him,  but  the  light  was  now 
very  dim,  and  the  gypsy's  collar  was  up.  "  Men,"  said  Mole- 
skin, "  I  never  was  a  hard  man,  though  I  have  always  done 
my  duty.  Will  you  go  peaceably  and  quietly  to  my  lodge  and 
stay  there  until  I  see  what  is  to  be  done  ?" 

"  We  will !"  said  Cooper. 

"  Then  I  can  tell  you  that  you'll  be  none  the  worse  ofi*  for 
it.     Come  on !" 

The  keeper  led  the  way.  The  sailors  followed,  and  the  un- 
der-keeper  brought  up  the  rear  with  the  mastiff.  It  was  a  long 
walk,  and  thick  darkness  fell  upon  the  woods  before  the  lodge 
was  reached.  A  fire  was  burning  on  the  hearth,  and  Moleskin 
produced  a  lamp  and  stooped  to  light  it. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  319 

"  I  say,  keeper,"  cried  Cox,  "it  wanted  just  about  five  min- 
utes of  sundown  when  that  gun  went  off.  I  want  that  under- 
stood." 

"  Five  minutes  of  sundown !  Why  the  sun  had  set  an  hour, 
as  the  almanac  and  my  watch  will  prove." 

"  No  they  won't.  Your  watch  is  always  fast,  and  in  respect 
to  sunset  you  are  always  wrong.  You  don't  allow  for  his  de- 
clination.    No  landsman  ever  does." 

"  What  does  it  matter  ?"  said  the  gypsy,  sharply. 

The  keeper  had  lit  the  lamp,  and  turning  to  look  at  him, 
he  started  with  surprise.  The  man  had  thrown  off  his  heavy 
jacket,  and  stood  in  the  full  light.  There  were  the  fine  straight 
figure,  the  nut-brown  face,  with  the  red  tinge  of  excitement  on 
the  cheeks,  the  very  features,  the  glowing  eyes,  and  the  earrings 
of  gold,  so  that  had  it  not  been  for  the  close-cropped  hair  and 
the  hard  hands,  Moleskin  would  have  sworn  that  Rose  Tanner 
stood  before  him  disguised  as  a  man. 

"  Now,  I'm  sorry  for  this,"  said  the  keeper.  "  Which  is  it, 
Tom  or  Elijah?" 

"  Neither ;  it's  me — the  young  'un — Jim  the  sailor." 

"  Ah,  it  was  you  that  fetched  me  the  clout  with  the  butt 
of  the  gun  after  the  others  had  mainly  given  up,  when  I  was 
under-keeper." 

"Well  the  jury  said  so,  and  there  was  an  end.  But  this 
was  a  long  while  ago.  Master  Moleskin,  and  I've  never  been 
in  these  parts  since.  As  Cox  and  I  have  run  into  shoal  water 
without  meaning  it,  what's  to  be  done?  He  tells  the  truth 
when  he  says  that  we  met  for  the  first  time  yesterday  morning." 

"  I  must  consider.  Bill,  I  must  consider !"  said  Moleskin 
to  his  man.  "  Go  you  the  rounds  to-night,  and  in  the  morning 
tell  Parkins  to  come  here.  Don't  you  sailor  chaps  be  two 
fools,  and  make  bad  worse  by  trying  to  get  away.  I  have 
your  words,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  You  have,  honor  bright !" 

"  Well,  then,  sit  down.  We'll  smoke  a  pipe  and  drink  a 
glass,  and  I'll  consider." 

The  keeper  considered  for  some  time — so  long,  indeed,  that 
he  replenished  his  pipe  and  refilled  the  glasses.  Then,  looking 
at  the  fire  with  the  air  of  a  man  in  a  brown  study,  he  solilo- 
quized as  follows,  with  intervals  of  silence  between  the  sen- 
tences : 


820  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO K 

"  A  town  magistrate  wun't  understand  the  true  ins  and  outs 
and  merits  of  this  case.  Sir  Jerry  SuafHe  w  ill."  (Cox  nudged 
Cooper  with  his  elbow.)  "  My  duty  is  to  deliver  these  men  to 
the  constable,  and  I  must  do  it.  That's  plain  enough  to  the 
man-of-war's  man.  It  rests  with  the  constable  to  take  his  men 
before  any  magistrate  in  the  neighborhood  he  pleases.  He's 
fond  of  good  ale,  the  constable  is.  Sir  Jerry  brews  the  best 
in  the  county,  and  the  tap  at  the  Hall  is  pretty  much  always 
a-ruuning."  (Cooper  nudged  Cox.)  "  There  will  be  a  matter 
of  an  hour  or  two  in  the  morning  before  I  can  go  with  the 
constable  anywhere.  During  that  time  he'll  naturally  want  a 
glass  or  two.     The  constable  likes  gin  as  well  as  ale." 

"  What  does  he  say  to  rum  ?  I've  got  in  the  dunnage  bag 
some  as  fine  as  ever  left  Port  Koyal  Bay,"  said  Cox. 

"  The  constable  is  very  fond  of  rum  and  milk  in  the  morning. 
We  shall  have  milk  brought  here  about  daylight.  Sir  Jerry 
may  not  be  at  home  when  we  reach  the  Hall.  It's  a  hunting 
morning,  and  I  think  he'll  be  gone  when  we  get  there." 
(Cooper  and  Cox  looked  blank.)  "  But  her  ladyship  will  be. 
As  an  Adnnral's  daughter,  when  informed  by  the  constable 
that  he  has  two  sailors  there  for  a  trifling  offence,  her  ladyship 
may  wish  to  speak  to  the  sailors.  If  them  sailors  make  a  good 
impression  on  her,  the  lady  may  ask  a  favor  or  two  in  their 
behalf  I've  known  her  ladyship  to  ask  favors  that  wasn't 
refused.  Still  I,  Moleskin,  keeper  to  the  Marquis,  must  do 
my  duty." 

"  Certainly !  *  England  expects  every  man  to  do  his  duty,' 
and  in  you  and  me  she  won't  be  disappointed,"  said  Cooper, 
with  much  vivacity.  "  I  will  say  that  you'll  be  the  means  of 
saving  one  sailor  to  the  King,  and  perhaps  not  the  worst  in 
his  majesty's  fleet." 

"  The  constable,"  said  Moleskin,  coolly  and  dryly,  "  is  a 
great  man  for  king  and  constitution,  likewise  the  church.  The 
man-of-war's  man  is,  of  course,  all  right.  If  Cox  has  picked 
up  any  revolutionary,  radical  notions,  he'd  better  keep  them 
to  himself." 

*'  Me  revolutionary !  Me  radical !"  said  Cox.  "  Why, 
d — n  it.  Moleskin,  I've  fought  on  the  Tory  side  at  every 
election  there's  been  for  fourteen  or  fifteen  years,  when  I  was 
ashore." 


THE  WHITE  HOESE  OF  WOOTTON,  321 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


-Be  not  afear'd;  the  isle  is  full  of  noises. 


Sounds  and  sweet  airs  that  give  delight  and  hurt  not. 
Sometime^  a  thousand  twanging  instruments 
Will  hum  about  mine  ears ;  and  sometimes  voices 
That,  if  I  then  had  waked  after  long  sleep, 
Will  make  me  sleep  again." 

^HE  winter  season  was  passing  rapidly  away.  The  days 
-*-  grew  longer  and  the  gales  grew  stronger,  for  the  stormy 
time  of  February  was  come.  The  sun  was  seldom  seen  except 
for  a  minute  or  two,  when  it  shone  from  among  dark,  sweep- 
ing clouds,  like  the  face  of  a  beauty  beaming  for  a  brief  space 
between  jealous  curtains.  But  for  all  that,  the  birds  were 
already  brisk  and  busy.  The  rooks  cawed  loudly  and  inces- 
santly in  the  upper  branches  of  the  tall  elms,  and  seemed  to 
hold  counsel  and  debate  over  the  ways  and  means  of  repair- 
ing or  rebuilding  the  last  year's  nests.  The  sparrows  flew 
rapidly  about,  and  saucily  chattered  on  the  ricks  and  thatch 
of  the  farm  buildings,  as  if  they  owned  them,  or  held  them 
under  a  long  lease.  The  shepherds  of  the  Vale  prepared  for 
early  lambing  time,  and  now  the  ploughs  of  the  husbandmen, 
with  their  teams  of  powerful  horses,  heavy  in  the  shoulders 
and  shaggy  at  the  heels,  were  going  early  and  late  through 
the  rich  loam  of  the  fertile  land.  The  first  blossoms  of  the 
young  year,  the  snowdrops,  might  already  be  seen  in  the  gar- 
den of  May  Bullfinch,  and  she  was  often  busy  there.  The 
maiden  was,  however,  restless  and  uneasy,  and,  as  in  the  days 
of  the  last  summer  and  autumn,  glancing  early  and  late  from 
the  garden  gate.  Hope  deferred  troubled  and  distressed  her. 
To-morrow  and  to-morrow  ;  but  the  truant  never  came.  Tom 
Scarlet  was  still  absent.  Nothing  had  been  heard  of  him  since 
the  roving  sailors  put  afloat  the  rumor  of  his  death.  Mr. 
Southdown  and  John  Bullfinch  still  talked  confidently  of  his 
speedy  return,  but  their  anxious  and  impatient  looks,  when 
together,  seemed  to  give  the  lie  to  their  sanguine  expressions 
before  May.  Straddles,  however,  was  as  positive  now  as  he 
had  been  on  Christmas  eve,  that  the  missing  man  would  reach 
21 


322  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

the  Vale  before  the  day  set  for  the  great  steeple-chase  match 
between  horses  to  be  named  by  the  Duke  and  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle. 
The  box  at  the  Grange  was  kept  carefully  done  up. 

It  was  morning,  and  having  breakfasted,  John  Bullfinch 
was  preparing  to  mount  and  ride  to  the  cover  side.  The 
meet  was  to  be  at  a  noted  and  popular  place,  in  a  country  of 
grasslands  and  small  coverts,  every  one  of  which  usually  held 
a  strong  fox.  Cowslip  was  at  the  door,  arrayed  in  the  new 
saddle  and  bridle,  the  Christmas  gift  of  his  children  to  John 
Bullfinch  and  his  mare.  Young  Jack  stood  by  the  fire  with 
an  air  of  vexation  and  discontent  upon  his  features,  arising 
from  the  fact  that  his  father  had  prohibited  him  from  hunting 
that  day.  "  It  is  not  the  place  for  boys ;  the  field,  when  we 
meet  at  Stratton,  is  too  large  for  boys  ;  they  are  in  the  way," 
said  John,  as  May  tied  his  cravat.  The  farmer  then  slipped 
on  his  coat,  kissed  his  daughter  fondly,  and  held  out  his  hand 
to  his  son.  Young  Jack  took  it  warmly,  though  there  was 
almost  a  tear  of  disappointment  in  his  eye.  But  he  suddenly 
looked  up,  dropped  his  father's  hand,  and  cried,  "  Here's  Sir 
Jerry,  father  !  May,  here's  Sir  Jerry  !  and  I'm  blest  if  he  isn't 
on  The  Bagman  !" 

"  This  is  an  honor,  my  dear,"  said  John.     "  You  Jack  !" 

But  his  son  was  already  outside,  and  at  the  baronet's  stirrup. 
Dismounting,  Sir  Jerry  Snafiftle  walked  into  the  house,  and 
taking  the  farmer  aside,  spoke  to  him  in  rapid,  low  tones,  point- 
ing through  the  window  with  his  whip  at  the  strong  and  beau- 
tiful horse  held  by  Young  Jack. 

"  I  don't  know  about  it,"  said  John,  looking  very  serious. 
"  Work  is  well  enough,  and  it  is  true  that  we  can  get  no  tidings 
of  Tom  and  the  horse  he  bragged  about ;  but  your  weight.  Sir 
Jerry,  will  be  too  much.  The  pace  is  always  good,  and  the 
run  commonly  long,  when  we  meet  at  Stratton  and  draw  the 
copses ;  and  you  know.  Sir  Jerry,  that  you  never  pulled  up  in 
your  life  while  the  fox  was  afoot  and  the  hounds  were  run- 
ning." 

"I  have  another  horse  out,"  said  the  baronet,  "I  shall 
change  for  him,  and  send  The  Bagman  home  at  the  first  check. 
Besides,  I  feel  confident  that  Tom  Scarlet  will  yet  come  to 
time,  and  then  he  shall  decide  which  horse  to  start.  I  thought 
you  would  like  to  ride  with  me  to  the  cover.  On  the  road  we 
can  talk." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  323 

"  Greatest  of  pleasure  !"  said  John  Bullfinch.  "  A  great 
honor,  Sir  Jerry,  very  great !     ^lay,  my  dear " 

The  farmer  looked  round  for  his  daughter,  but  in  vain.  The 
sudden  appearance  of  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  at  her  father's  house 
had  surprised  her,  and  it  flashed  across  her  mind  that  he  came 
"svith  some  sad  intelligence  respecting  her  lover,  and  was  then 
communicating  it  to  her  father,  in  order  that  he  might  break 
it  to  her.  She  ran  to  her  sitting-room,  and  gave  way  to  a 
flood  of  tears.  She  wiped  them  hurriedly  away  as  she  heard 
them  coming  along  to^Yards  her  room,  but  the  heavy  tread  of 
the  baronet  and  her  father  on  the  oak  floor  in  their  huntino-- 
boots,  sounded  like  a  knell.  As  they  entered  she  glanced 
timidly  at  Sir  Jerry,  as  she  curtsied,  but  instead  of  seeing  the 
sad  look  of  one  who  brought  intelligence  of  a  melancholy 
calamity,  she  beheld  the  genial  smile  which  so  well  became  his 
handsome  face.  A  fine-looking  man  was  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle, 
especially  when  he  was  in  the  uniform  of  the  hunt — the  well- 
fitting  scarlet  coat,  the  buff  waistcoat,  tight  buckskin  breeches, 
white  as  milk,  and  faultless  top-boots  with  silver  spurs.  And 
as  May  blushed  while  he  looked  very  kindly  at  her,  and  took 
her  hand,  she  thought  he  was  a  marvellous  proper  man. 

"  I  bring,"  said  he,  "  an  invitation  from  Lady  Snafile  to  you, 
Miss  May.  Her  ladyship  would  be  much  pleased  to  see  you 
at  the  Hall,  and  as  there  is  no  one  there,  I  have  no  doubt  you 
will  pass  a  pleasant  day." 

"  Oh,  Sir  Jerry !"  said  May,  "  I  am  sure  I  shall  be  delighted. 
It  is  alvvays  a  pleasure  to  be  allowed  to  wait  upon  her  lady- 
ship, she  is  so  kind." 

"  Yes,  yes !  the  truth  is.  Miss  May,  that  Lady  Snafile  is  fond 
of  you,  which  is  nothing  to  wonder  at,"  said  he.  "Therefore, 
as  soon  as  we  leave  you,  which  must  be  now,  you  had  better 
let  your  brother  get  your  horse  ready  and  ride.  over.  He  can 
go  over  in  the  afternoon  and  see  you  home,  unless  you  remain 
all  night." 

"  Thank  you,  Sir  Jerry.  My  brother  shall  come  for  me  in 
the  afternoon,  if  you  please,  so  that  I  may  be  home  again  as 
soon  as  father  is,"  she  replied. 

"  Be  it  so,  then.  Good-morning.  Her  ladyship  must  teach 
you  to  keep  your  spirits  up  until  we  get  news  of  Tom  Scarlet, 
w^hich  will  no  doubt  be  very  soon.    Come,  John !" 


324  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

The  farmer,  intensely  gratified,  kissed  his  daughter  again 
and  again,  before  he  followed  Sir  Jerry.  The  latter,  in  a  few 
words,  told  the  lad  that  his  sister  was  to  set  out  for  the  Hall 
forthwith,  and  that  he  was  to  ride  over  and  conduct  her  home 
in  the  evening.  Young  Jack  heard  this  with  great  satisfac- 
tion. A  visit  to  the  Hall  delighted  him  almost  as  much  as  a 
day  in  the  hunting-field,  as  he  not  only  had  gracious  notice 
and  words  of  commendation  from  Lady  Snaffle,  but  commonly 
managed  to  secure  an  interview  with  one  or  two  gray-headed 
retainers  of  the  family,  whose  large  experience  and  long  memo- 
ries made  them  oracles  in  all  matters  of  field  sports.  As  Sir 
Jerry  and  John  Bullfinch  mounted  and  rode  off  they  were  fol- 
lowed by  the  admiring  gaze  of  May  Bullfinch,  Young  Jack, 
and  Tom,  the  man  of  the  lantern  on  Christmas  eve. 

"  There  goes  the  best  two  men  I  ever  held  a  stirrup  for," 
said  the  latter  ;  "  the  very  best !" 

"  Yes,  good  men !"  replied  Young  Jack.  "  But  Tom  Scarlet 
for  cross-country  work,  is,  to  my  mind,  the  very  best  man  we 
have  in  these  parts." 

"  Why,  young  master,  I  warn't  thinking  of  him.  We  don't 
have  him  in  these  parts  now.  He  ain't  come  back,  you  see, 
and  has  been  gone  a'most  a  year.  I  don't  think  he'll  come 
back ;  leastways,  not  for  a  good  while." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  said  Young  Jack. 

"  Well,  a  score  of  years  or  so,"  replied  the  man.  "  You  see, 
nothing  has  been  heard  of  him.  Some  think  he  is  dead.  I 
don't  believe  he  is." 

"  What  do  you  think  then  ?" 

"  Master  Jack,"  replied  the  man,  "  it's  my  belief  he's  'listed 
for  a  soger ;  and,  by  George,  "what  a  sergeant  in  the  dragoons 
he'll  make!  I  think  I  should  'list  myself  if  his  regiment  was 
to  come  along  this  way,  with  their  helmets  and  sashes  and  long 
swords." 

"  Go  and  saddle  May's  horse,"  said  Young  Jack.  "  She  is 
going  to  the  Hall  to  visit  Lady  Snaffle.  In  the  evening  I  shall 
be  there  to  fetch  her  home.     Be  lively,  Tom." 

By  the  time  Tom  had  the  horse  at  the  door  May  Bullfinch 
was  dressed  for  her  little  journey.  She  was  glad  of  the  oppor- 
tunity to  reveal  all  her  hopes  and  fears  to  Lady  Snaffle.  In- 
deed, she  had  been  urged  to  do  so  by  one  of  her  best  friends ; 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO K  325 

for,  seeing  how  she  pined,  a  prey  to  anxiety  and  doubt,  Mr. 
Southdown  had  recommended  frequent  visits  to  his  wife  and 
daughters,  and  had  insisted  that  she  should  no  longer  neglect 
to  consult  with  the  Admiral's  daughter.  So,  with  an  admoni- 
tion and  a  kiss  to  Jack,  May  started. 

The  day  was  dark  and  bleak,  as  she  rode  between  the  leaf- 
less hedges  of  the  lanes  which  were  the  shortest  way  to  Sir 
Jerry's  house.  At  the  top  of  the  hill  she  paused  and  surveyed 
the  wide  expanse  of  the  dreary  heath  between  her  and  the 
woodlands  which  bounded  Sir  Jerry's  park  and  shut  in  the 
sheltered  pastures  of  the  vale.  Far  to  the  left,  from  among 
clumps  of  gorse,  in  its  winter  suit,  she  saw  the  smoking  rising 
from  a  gypsy  camp  and  drifting  away  before  the  wind.  No 
mark  of  settled  habitation  was  to  be  seen  upon  the  waste. 
May  had  overheard  what  passed  between  her  father's  man  and 
her  brother,  and  her  mood  was  sad.  The  reins  had  fallen  on 
her  horse's  neck,  and  as  he  walked  with  measured  tread,  she 
was  absorbed  in  melancholy  musing.  She  had  almost  forgotten 
where  she  was,  when  a  rich  female  voice  aroused  her  attention, 
and,  as  it  w^ere,  stopped  her  on  the  way.  It  appeared  to  come 
from  a  thick  clump  of  gorse,  brambles  and  dried  fern,  an  acre 
or  more  in  extent.     Its  owner,  unseen,  sang  as  follows : 

0  !  why  does  the  Rose  of  the  hamlet  stray 

On  the  lonesome  verge  of  the  -windy  heath  ? 
Neither  fern  leaf  nor  flower  is  seen  by  the  way, 

The  sward  is  as  pale  as  a  last  summer's  wreath. 
No  note  swells  the  brake  where  the  wild  thrush  was  loud, 

No  mirth-bearing  carol  comes  up  from  the  lea — 
The  lark  does  not  sing  high  above  the  rain  cloud, 

No  bird  sways  a  bough  of  the  naked  ash  tree. 
The  clustering  gorse,  that  was  once  green  and  gold, 

Is  brown  as  the  thatch  on  the  oldest  field  barn; 
No  bleat  from  the  flock  in  the  snug  haulmy  fold. 

No  cry  of  the  bittern  is  heard  by  the  tarn. 
The  earth  seemeth  dumb,  and  the  sky  dark  and  drear, 

No  music  is  borne  on  the  dull  laden  air ; 
But  the  sad,  gentle  sigh,  and  the  soft  falling  tear, 

Lead  the  low,  honey  voice  of  the  maiden  in  prayer. 

There  was  a  pause  ;  May  Bullfinch  thought  the  concealed 
female  had  finished  her  song,  but  she  continued  with  a  deeper 
voice  and  more  animation  : 

A  horseman  armed,  of  the  wild  "West  land, 

Speeds  fast  as  the  drift  of  the  screaming  gale! 

The  brown  chief  will  ride  at  his  red  right  hand; 
There  are  branches  s^rewp  o^ei  hili  and  dale. 


326  TEE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

His  pale  brow  is  stern  as  the  night's  dun  cloud, 

His  elf  locks  are  flying,  his  raiment  is  dank  ! 
What  gleams  in  his  eye — fierce,  bloodshot,  and  proud — 

"While  the  rowels  are  red  in  the  White  Horse's  flank  ? 
**  Three  more  shall  be  slain !"  were  the  words  he  said, 

As  he  shook  to  the  sky  his  death-streaming  gun, 
"Ere  the  shaft  that  is  loosened  hath  truthfully  sped, 

Four  lives  must  perish  to  answer  for  one. 
I  swear  by  the  thunder  thou  bearest  like  fate  ! 

By  the  li'^htning  which  bursts  from  thy  muzzle  so  blue! 
Four  grim,  guilty  ghosts,  through  the  cold  cloudy  gate 

Shall  follow  the  friend  who  was  tender  and  true  I" 


0,  Rose  of  the  hamlet !  oh,  which  thinkest  thou, 
Were  heard  by  the  Father  who  loves  us  alway — 

The  wild,  whirling  words  of  the  horseman's  dark  vow, 
Or  the  prayers  of  the  maiden  who  fainteth  to-day  ? 

The  voice  died  away  in  a  long  cadence.  May  Bullfinch 
looked  and  listened,  and  had  almost  resolved  to  force  her 
horse  through  the  gorse,  when  she  saw  a  form  in  a  dark  cloak 
pass  swiftly  from  one  clump  to  another,  already  far  away  in 
the  direction  of  the  gypsy  camp.  Unsettled  and  agitated, 
though  scarcely  alarmed,  May  touched  her  horse  with  the 
whip.  He  struck  into  a  steady  hand-gallop,  and  in  half  an 
hour  she  was  at  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle' s.  Her  welcome  was  a  warm 
one.  After  some  refreshment,  Lady  Snaffle  took  her  to  the 
library,  and  there,  seated  by  the  lady's  side  before  the  fire, 
May  opened  her  heart  and  told  her  tale,  including  the  purport 
of  the  song  she  had  heard  on  the  heath.  The  sympathy  and 
tact  of  Lady  Snaffle  soon  restored  May's  self-possession,  and 
inspired  her  with  more  confidence  than  she  had  lately  felt. 
The  former  treated  her  as  she  might  have  treated  a  daughter 
or  a  young  sister.  She  remembered  that  May  had  no  mother ; 
and  in  close  conversation  they  spent  two  hours,  perhaps  more, 
very  pleasantly.  The  lady's  white,  soft  hand,  with  its  dimple 
and  its  jewelled  rings,  was  upon  May's  shoulder,  and  she  was 
speaking  to  her  in  a  coaxing  tone,  when  there  came  a  knock 
at  the  door.  Entering  at  the  bidding  of  his  mistress,  the  foot- 
man announced  that  Parkins,  the  constable,  was  below,  and 
requested  an  interview  with  Lady  Snaffle,  upon  very  pressing 
and  particular  business.  Perhaps  it  was  the  knowledge  that 
this  man  had  been  somehow  mixed  up  with  Tom  Scarlet's 
affair,  and  the  possibility  that  the  roving  sailors  might  have 
returned  and  fallen  into  his  charge,  that  induced  the  lady. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  327 

after  a  moment's  consideration,  to  grant  his  request,  and 
direct  the  footman  to  show  him  into  the  library  in  which  they 
were. 

"  The  man,"  said  she  to  May  Bullfinch,  "  is  a  blockhead  and 
a  bore,  a  pragmatical  fellow ;  but  he  is  upheld  in  his  office  by 
the  magistracy,  some  of  whom,  my  dear,  are  none  too  wise 
themselves.  I  will  learn  what  he  wants,  and  speedily  dismiss 
him,  after  which  we  will  resume  our  little  conference." 

Parkins  entered  rather  boldly,  but,  as  if  suddenly  checked, 
he  hesitated  and  made  a  low  bow.  He  was  surprised  to  see 
May  Bullfinch  there,  and  was  rather  disconcerted  by  finding 
Lady  Snaffle's  eye  on  him  as  soon  as  he  was  within  the  room. 
His  face  was  redder  than  usual.  It  might  be  the  effect  of  the 
wind  and  weather ;  but  his  nose  was  of  a  lively  purple,  and 
that  might  be  the  effect  of  his  having  taken  what  he  called  "  a 
little  summut"  several  times  in  the  course  of  the  day.  As  his 
eyes  were  bright  but  unsteady,  and  as  there  was  a  rapid  wink- 
ing of  the  lids  nearly  all  the  time,  it  was  probably  not  the  eflTect 
of  the  weather  which  caused  the  change  in  his  appearance. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Parkins,  come  forward !  Your  business,  sir  ? 
What  do  you  want  to  state  ?"  said  Lady  Snaffle. 

"  Well,  my  lady !"  replied  he,  with  another  profound  bow  and 
a  sort  of  jackdaw  look  of  wisdom,  "  Sir  Jerry  being  absent,  I 
made  bold,  knowing  your  ladyship's  influence  with  the  higher 
authorities " 

"  jS"ever  mind  the  preamble.  To  the  point !  What  is  it 
you  want?" 

"  Your  ladyship's  influence  and  orders  in  a  certain  cause 
wdiich  is,  I  may  say,  before  the  authorities,  and  yet  not  before 
'em — half  and  half,  as  a  tapster  might  say." 

"And  what  is  it  about,  sir?" 

"About  two  men  that  have  been  took  up — took  ui>ivrongfulf 
my  lady.  Very  few  is  ever  so  took  up — none  that  I  pulls 
myself,  although  they  all  pretend  to  be.  This  here  case,  how- 
ever, I  have  investigated,  and  the  men  is  took  up  wrongful, 
and  ought  to  be  discharged." 

"  And  what  of  that,  sir !  I  cannot  discharge  them.  I  am 
not  in  the  commission  of  the  peace,"  said  Lady  Snaffle. 

"  True,  my  lady !  I  wish  you  was ;  for  since  the  Admiral 
left,  what  with  Sir  Jerry  being  always  so  busy  with  his  horses, 


328  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

and  his  hounds,  and  his  matches,  and  Mr.  Jericho  being,  as  his 
man  says,  engaged  night  and  day  Avith  his  history  of  the  anti- 
quaries of  the  primitive  church,  there  is  a  kind  of  a  vacancy  in 
the  heads  of  the  bench,"  replied  jMr.  Parkins. 

"  That  will  do,  Parkins.  You  must  take  the  men  somewhere 
else." 

"  They  a'  been  took  up  wrongful,"  said  Parkins. 

"  I  cannot  help  it,  sir." 

"  These  men  be  from  America,  my  lady." 

"  Ah !"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  while  May  Bullfinch  started. 

«  And  they  be  sailors,  my  lady,"  said  Parkins,  with  much 
emphasis. 

"  Sailors  from  America !  May,  I  declare  I  do  not  perceive 
any  harm  in  seeing  them.  Parkins,  the  case  is  altered,"  said 
Lady  Snaffle.  "As  the  Admiral  is  not  here,  tell  me  all  about 
it.     Come  to  the  point  and  be  brief." 

"  My  lady,  I  will.  It's  a  pleasure  to  speak  to  you  in  a  cause, 
as  if  your  worship  w'as  on  the  bench  in  earnest.  From  infor- 
mation I  received  this  morning,  I  goes  to  Moleskin's  lodge  in 
the  woods  this  forenoon,  and  finds  him  and  the  prisoners,  the 
sailors  from  America,  took  up  wrongful.  Moleskin  says  the 
men  be  poachers,  and  tells  me  to  take  'em'  and  lock  'em  up. 
The  sailors  say  they  isn't,  and  tells  me  to  take  'em  before  Sir 
Jerry  Snaffle.  I  tells  the  sailors  that  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  is  ab- 
sent. '  Then,'  says  the  sailors,  '  to  prevent  being  clewed  up 
fore  and  aft,  we  claim  the  righl  and  privilege  of  being  taken 
before  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle's  wife.  She's  an  Admiral's  daughter 
and  knows  the  ropes." 

"  My  dear,"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  laughing,  "  it  is  just  sailor- 
like. Parkins,  what  is  the  case  against  them,  as  alleged  by 
Moleskin  himself?" 

"  Moleskin,  my  lady,  charges  that  the  men  were  in  the  cover 
for  the  purpose  of  poaching,  but  the  sailors  tell  another  story. 
The  sailors  say,  my  lady,  that  coming  to  London  in  a  ship 
from  New  Orleans,  they  were  intrusted  with  certain  presents, 
to  wit,  a  gun  and  two  bottles  of  rum,  very  old  Jamaica,  for 
Gypsy  Jack,  a  friend  of  theirs." 

Parkins  paused,  and  the  ladies  being  now  greatly  interested 
and  all  attention,  waited  for  him  to  proceed. 

"  Finding  himself  in  this  neighborhood  lateish  in  the  evening, 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  399 

and  hearing  that  the  gyps==y  camp  was  about  the  middle  of  the 
heath,  the  saih)r  says — that  is,  the  spokesman  says — he  took 
the  way  through  the  woods  by  a  short  cut,  and  his  gun  going 
ofi'  by  accident,  Moleskin  came  up  and  nailed  'em." 

"A  trifling,  absurd  story,  Parkins,  with  nothing  to  corrobo- 
rate it,"  said  Lady  Snaffle.  "  I  doubt  whether  these  men  are 
sailors  at  all.  Have  they  corkscrew  curls  all  round  their 
heads?" 

"  No,  my  lady.  Their  heads  are  as  smooth  as  bullets  and 
about  as  hard,"  said  Parkins. 

"  May,  my  dear,  all  the  fellows  w  ith  curls,  in  sailor's  clothes, 
are  impostors,  and  ought  to  be  sent  to  the  treadmill.  My 
father  always  told  Sir  Jerry  so." 

"  And,  my  lady,  there  is  something  to  corroborate  what  the 
sailors  say,"  remarked  Mr.  Parkins. 

"And  what  may  it  be,  sir?" 

"The  rum,  my  lady,  and  the  gun,"  said  Parkins.  "  There's 
one  bottle  of  the  old  Jamaica  left.  As  one  of  the  authorities, 
I  tested  the  spokesman's  credibility  with  the  other,  and  found 
it  sound  and  all  right.  Besides,  he's  intrusted  with  a  token 
and  a  message  to  Tom  Scarlet,  or,  in  his  absence,  to  his  next 
friend.  That  token  the  sailor  refuses  to  show ;  that  message 
he  declines  to  deliver  to  me  and  Moleskin." 

"  You  did  right  to  come  here,  Parkins.  Do  you  think  the 
sailor  will  intrust  the  token  and  the  message  to  me  ?"  said 
Lady  Snaffle. 

"  To  you  and  the  young  lady.  Miss  May  Bullfinch,  now 
present  and  occupyiug  a  seat  on  the  bench,  as  I  may  say,  he 
will,  because  she  is  the  next  friend,  by  name  mentioned  and 
set  forth  in  the  indictment  as  the  party  the  token  and  message 
are  to  be  delivered  to  in  Tom  Scarlet's  absence.  He'll  stand 
and  deliver,  like  a  true  man,  will  this  sailor,  if  your  ladyship 
wall  influence  Moleskin  to  let  him  go  away  without  further 
trouble." 

"  I  will  see  Moleskin.    I  will  see  the  men.    Are  they  here  ?" 

"  They  are,  my  lady.  I  left  them  in  the  hall,  eating  of 
roast  beef  and  mince-pie,  drinking  your  ladyship's  health  in 
ale,  and  gammoning  the  gals." 

"  Parkins,  for  shame !" 

"  Well,  my  lady  telling  of  'em  long-winded  stories  about 
pearls  and  mermaids,  and  what  not." 


330  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

"  Go  and  fetch  Moleskin  and  the  sailors  here,"  said  Lady 
Snaffle.  Then  she  exclaimed  to  May,  "  now,  my  darling,  I 
feel  that  we  shall  hear  the  truth.  The  men  are  real  sailors. 
Their  conduct  in  the  hall  among  the  servant  maids  proves  it. 
Now  we  shall  learn  the  facts." 

When  the  prisoners  made  their  appearance,  preceded  by 
Parkins  and  followed  by  the  keeper,  one  of  them  pushed  the 
former  aside  without  ceremony  and  walked  up  unabashed  to 
where  Lady  Snaffle  was  sitting.  May  Bullfinch  immediately 
recognised  the  sailor  Cox  and  Lady  Snaffle  did  so  in  a  few 
moments.  His  scarred  face  was  flushed,  and  there  was  a 
marry  twinkle  in  his  eye  as  he  made  his  bow,  and  stood  turn- 
ing his  glazed  hat  over  in  his  sinewy  hands.  The  fact  was, 
that  he  was  about  "  half  slewed,"  as  he  would  have  said  him- 
self, for  besides  drinking  her  ladyship's  health  often  in  strong 
ale,  he  had,  at  the  instance  of  the  cook,  fortified  himself  with 
half  a  tumbler  of  cherry  brandy.  Moleskin  had  remon- 
strated with  the  cook  against  the  last,  but  she  replied  that 
sailors  must  be  treated  well  in  that  house.  It  was  Lady  Snaf- 
fla's  express  desire.  And  besides,  as  she  had  often  heard 
Admiral  Broadside  say  to  his  daughter,  "  they  plough  the 
raging  seas,  while  the  gentlemen  of  England  do  live  at  home 
at  ease." 

The  demeanor  of  Cooper  was  different.  He  looked  down 
upon  the  carpet,  stood  at  a  respectful  distance,  and  seemed 
disinclined  to  face  the  Admiral's  daughter.  The  man  had 
been  in  action  and  had  always  done  good  service  in  storm 
and  battle,  but  he  was  hardly  equal  to  the  present  occasion. 
Lady  Snaffle  addressed  herself  to  Cox  : 

"  Young  man,  I  understand  you  are  a  sailor — a  real  sailor?" 

"  I  am,  my  lady.  If  your  ladyship's  father,  Admiral  Broad- 
side, was  here  at  this  minute,  he  would  say  so.  Man  before 
the  mast,  and  have  been  for  years." 

"  You  are  recently  from  America,  are  you  not  ?" 

"Just  arrived  from  New  Orleans,  madam.  Anchored  in 
the  Downs  last  Sunday,  and  was  paid  off*  in  the  West  India 
Docks  on  Tuesday.     Discharge  all  ship-shape,"  replied  Cox. 

"  My  father  was  very  fond  of  sailors,"  said  Lady  Snaffle, 
looking  steadily  at  Cox. 

"  So  I've  often  heard,  my  lady.     He  took  such  care  of  good 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  331 

ones — men  able  to  do  topmau's  duty  and  be  captains  of  the 
guns — that  -when  they  was  once  in  the  fleet,  what  with  prize 
money  and  strong  grog  and  the  bounty  afloat,  and  the  press 
gang  ashore,  they  could  never  get  out  of  it  again.  However, 
he  was  a  fine  old  fighting  captain,  such  as  the  sailors  like." 

The  other  sailor  mumbled  something,  and  Lady  Snaffle 
looked  inquiringly  at  him. 

"  This  is  your  shipmate?"  she  said  to  Cox. 

"  No,  my  lady,  we  only  hauled  alongside  in  Loudon.  This 
man,  for  all  he  looks  spoony  here  in  this  presence,  is  a  man-'o- 
w^r's  man,  and  was  captain  of  the  foretop  in  the  Racehorse, 
double-banked  frigate,  just  paid  off*  at  Spithead.  He  knows 
your  ladyship's  father,  the  Admiral,  well,  he  does." 

"  Bless  me !  come  forward,  my  man.  So  you  know  my  dear 
father  well  ?" 

"Yes,  my  lady.  AdmiraL Broadside,  Rear- Admiral  of  the 
Blue ;  hope  to  see  him  Vice- Admiral  of  the  Red  before  he  dies. 
So  says  every  good  man  in  the  fleet,"  said  Cooper.  "He 
ought  to  fly  the  red  flag  at  the  fore !" 

"  My  dear  May,  this  is  the  genuine  sailor,  the  real  man-'o- 
war's  man.  You  served  under  my  father?"  she  added,  to 
Cooper. 

"  I'll  tell  her  all,"  said  he  to  Cox,  stepping  forward.  "  Ma- 
dam, I  was  taken  to  sea  out  of  jail  by  Admiral  Broadside 
eighteen  years  ago,  being  sentenced  to  transportation  for  four- 
teen years.  I've  served  the  king  and  the  country  ever  since, 
and  just  came  home  to  see  my  sister,  Rose  Tanner.  My  name 
is  James  Cooper." 

"  I  remember,  there  were  three  brothers.  Cooper,  wait  until 
I  have  heard  this  man.  What  is  your  name  ?"  continued  Lady 
Snaffle  to  the  other. 

"  Harry  Cox,  my  lady.  Born  at  Oxford,  and  was  one  of 
the  fancy  before  I  went  afloat,"  he  replied. 

"  The  fancy  !  what  may  that  be  ?" 

"  The  ring,  my  lady.  The  lads  as  follows  prize-fighting  as 
a  profession.  Have  given  it  up  now,  and  never  fight  except 
somebody  wants  a  licking  uncommon  bad." 

"  You  are  charged  with  having  been  in  the  preserves  for 
the  purpose  of  poaching.     Parkins  thinks  it  is  a  mistake." 

"  Parkins  is  right,  Lady  Snaffle.  It  is  a  mistake  on  the 
part  of  the  keeper,  Mr.  Moleskin  here." 


332  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

"  Moleskiu,"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  "  ^Yhat  do  you  say  to  this? 
The  sailors  allege  that  they  entered  the  preserves  merely  to 
make  a  short  cut.     I  believe  it  is  often  done." 

"  A  good  deal  too  often,  my  lady,"  replied  Moleskin.  "  As 
to  this  man  Cox,  he  had  a  gun." 

"  A  present  to  Gypsy  Jack  from  America,"  said  Cox. 

«  He  is  a  sailor.  Moleskin,  and  I  do  not  see  how  a  sailor  can 
be  a  poacher,"  said  Lady  Snaffle. 

"Pheasants  on  him,  my  lady,"  replied  Moleskin,  without 
any  change  of  feature.  "  As  for  the  other,  I  believe  Cox  led 
him  into  it.     Cox  had  the  gun  and  shot  the  pheasants." 

"  Only  two  old  cocks,"  said  the  sailor  to  Moleskin,  in  a 
surly,  reproachful  sort  of  tone.  Then  turning  to  Lady  Snaffle 
again  he  said,  "  My  lady,  I  know  you  are  a  sailor's  friend,  and 
I'll  tell  you  all  about  it — from  end  to  end,  right  off  the  reel, 
and  never  a  kink.  I  was  in  the  preserve  just  about  sundown 
four  bells  in  the  dog-watch.  Your  ladyship  knows  what  time 
that  is,  though  the  keeper  and  the  constable  are  so  ignorant 
that  they  don't.  I  had  a  gun,  but  it  was  a  present  sent  to 
Gypsy  jack  by  a  planter  of  the  Arkansas  bottoms  named 
Langlois.  I  had  two  old  cock  pheasants,  and  they  are  the 
rocks  ahead.  Cock  pheasants  do  more  harm  than  good  in 
the  spring  of  the  year,  there  being  too  many  of  them.  But 
we'll  slip  that,  and  bear  away.  This  is  the  real  truth — born 
in  these  parts,  and  being  fond  of  all  sorts  of  sport,  when  I 
made  out  those  pheasants,  perched  in  a  larch  tree,  I  was  bound 
to  try  the  gun.  My  lady,  I  couldn't  help  it !  I  may  be  sent 
to  jail,  but  I  can  do  better  service  out  of  jail ;  and  as  you  are 
an  Admiral's  daughter,  I  hope  you'll  tell  Moleskin  to  let  me 
clear  for  the  salt  water  again.  Cooper  had  nothing  to  do 
■with  it." 

"  Just  so  !  being  took  up  wrongful,"  said  Parkins. 

Lady  Snaffle  held  a  short  conference  with  Moleskin,  and  the 
latter  departed,  taking  Parkins  with  him,  much  against  that 
dignitary's  will.  When  they  were  gone,  Lady  Snaffle  said,  "  I 
have  procured  your  release.  I  am  now  about  to  request  some- 
thing in  return  of  you.  Cox— merely  information.  I  am  in- 
formed by  this  young  lady— that  is,  by  her  father,  through 
her — that  you  have  some  knowledge  of  Tom  Scarlet." 

"  I  have,  my  lady.     I  sailed  in  the  same  vessel  that  took 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  333 

him  out  to  America — clipper  brig,  belonging  to  Baltimore, 
where  he  aud  I  parted,  after  I  had  introduced  him  to  a  good 
mau." 

"  Who  was  that  man  ?" 

"  A  gentleman  by  the  name  of  Sassafras — Western  man." 

"An  Indian?"  said  Lady  Snaffle. 

"  Thundering  guns,  my  lady,  no !  As  white  as  you — no, 
not  as  white  as  you,  but  as  white  as  I  be !" 

"  Have  you  seen  Tom  Scarlet  since  you  introduced  him  to 
the  man  you  mentioned — Sassy " 

"  Sassafras,  my  lady.  No,  I  have  not.  My  chief  business 
here  was  to  see  him.  I  hear  he  has  not  yet  returned  from  the 
other  side.  In  that  case  I  was  to  deliver  what  I  brought  to 
Miss  May  Bullfinch,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  do  it  in  your  lady- 
ship's presence." 

With  this  the  sailor  placed  hisiiat  on  the  floor,  and,  drawing 
a  knife  from  some  part  of  his  clothing,  he  ripped  open  the  in- 
side of  his  monkey-jacket  and  produced  a  small  ornament, 
the  head  of  a  red  horse,  curiously  carved  out  of  a  piece  of 
stone.  He  held  it  up  before  the  ladies  on  the  palm  of  his 
hand,  saying : 

"  As  Tom  Scarlet  is  not  here  yet,  Miss  Bullfinch  is  to  take 
charge  of  this,  and  deliver  it  to  him  when  he  comes." 

May  whispered  to  Lady  Snaffle,  and  the  latter  said : 

"  Tliere  was  a  rumor  here  that  Mr.  Scarlet  was  killed." 

"  So  there  was  at  Orleans,  but  I  don't  believe  it.  In  fiict,  I 
know  it  wasn't  true.  He's  all  right,  and  will  very  soon  be 
alongside  of  this  young  lady,"  said  t\\Q  sailor. 

"  Who  sent  the  ornament  you  hold  in  your  hand  ?" 

"  A  friend  of  Tom  Scarlet's,  my  lady.  Cinnamon,  by  name, 
usually,"  replied  Cox. 

"  Usually  !  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  he  goes  by  more  than 
one  name  ?     Who  and  what  is  he  ?" 

"  He's  a  Western  man — large  landowner,  my  lady.  Hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  acres.  Named  after  one  of  their  produc- 
tions." 

"  Does  his  land  grow  spice,  then  ?" 

*•  Why,  no,  my  lady !  I  believe  it  chiefly  produces  bears 
and  buffaloes ;  but  I  have  never  been  on  it." 

"Cox,"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  sharply,  "I  believe  you  are 
speaking  of  an  Indian — a  wild  Indian !" 


334  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  I  am,  my  lady.  A  chief — a  very  great  chief !  Friend  of 
Sassafras  and  friend  of  Tom  Scarlet.  Called  Cinnamon  be- 
cause when  he  was  a  papoose  he  had  for  his  playfellow  a  cin- 
namon bear.     He  sent  the  totem." 

"  He  sent  the  totem  !" 

"  Yes,  my  lady.  The  totem  of  his  tribe,  the  Cheyennes, 
for  Tom  Scarlet,  signifying  that  Tom  is  adopted  into  his  tribe, 
and  that  if  any  man  injures  him  Cinnamon  will  have  that 
man's  scalp  or  know  the  reason  why.  It  would  have  been 
given  to  Mr.  Scarlet  before  he  left  the  West,  but  certain  cere- 
monies had  to  be  performed,  and  it  was  sent  afterwards  to  New 
Orleans,  to  me,  through  the  agent  of  Langlois,  who  was  in 
that  country  with  Tom." 

"  We  are  very  anxious  about  Mr.  Scarlet.  Do  you  know 
nothing  more.  Cox  ?"  said  Lady  Snaffle. 

"  I  know  he's  all  right,  my  lady,  for  two  reasons.  One  is 
that  Sassafras  had  him  in  tow,  and  wouldn't  let  him  come  to 
harm.  He'd  take  desperate  chances  sooner  than  see  him  in- 
jured. The  other  is,  that  if  Tom  had  been  clewed  up,  killed 
out  there,  instead  of  sending  the  Cheyenne  totem  to  Tom  as  a 
live  man,  and  one  of  his  own  tribe.  Cinnamon  would  have  sent 
the  scalps  of  them  as  done  it,  as  a  satisfaction  to  this  young 
lady  and  his  other  friends  about  here.  He  was  no  more  killed 
in  that  country  than  I  was,  who  was  never  there,  though  there 
was  a  scrimmage  and  one  or  two  were  killed.  He  has  been 
detained  by  head  winds.  It  hung  in  the  east  for  a  fortnight, 
as  it  often  does  about  the  chops  of  the  Channel  in  the  spring. 
It  is  now  west-nor'west,  and  you  may  look  for  him  every  tide." 

"  We  thank  you.  Cox,"  said  Lady  Snaffle. 

"  It's  all  right,  my  lady— all  right.  Miss  Bullfinch  !  With 
this  wind  upon  the  larboard  quarter  they  would  make  up  the 
leeway  very  fast,  and  Mr.  Scarlet  will  soon  be  a-riding  all 
snug  in  harbor  at  your  apron-string!" 

"  My  dear,"  said  Lady  Snaffle  to  the  blushing  May,  "  the 
man  is  a  sailor.  What  he  says  is  just  like  a  sailor.  It  was 
said,  also,  that  Miriam  Cotswold  was  carried  off*  by  Indians." 

"  My  lady.  Cooper  can  contradict  that.  Speak  up,  Jim," 
said  Cox. 

"  If  your  ladyship  pleases,  I  can  contradict  that.  In  coming 
from  the  Islands  to  Halifax  we  looked  into  New  York  bay  for 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  335 

two  or  three  days.  While  the  frigate  lay  off  the  Battery  she 
was  boarded  by  a  young  woman  and  a  man,  and  the  word  was 
passed  for  me.  The  young  woman  said  she  was  my  cousin, 
Miriam  Cotswold." 

'•'And  the  man — was  he  of  florid  complexion,  with  auburn 
"whiskers  ?" 

"  No,  madam.  He  was  nearly  as  dark  as  I  am,  and  his  face 
was  as  smooth  as  mine.  It  was  the  man  Cox  named,  vSassafras. 
They  said  they  were  bound  to  England.  And  they  ought  to 
have  been  in  port  before  now." 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

"He  looked  over  fell,  and  he  looked  over  flat, 
But  nothing,  I  wist,  he  saw, 
Save  a  pyot  on  a  turret  that  sat 
Beside  a  corby  craw. 

"  The  page  he  looked  at  the  skrieh  of  day. 
But  nothing,  I  wist,  he  saw, 
'Till  a  horseman  gray  in  the  royal  array, 
Rode  down  the  hazel  shaw." 

YOUNG  BULLFINCH  had  taken  dinner  and  dressed  him- 
self in  his  best  suit  rather  earlier  than  was  necessary,  in 
order  thart  he  might  set  out  on  his  ride  to  the  Hall  as  soon  as  he 
could  reasonably  convince  himself  that  he  would  not  arrive 
before  Lady  Snaffle  and  his  sister  would  expect  him.  "  It  is 
rather  too  soon  to  start,  but  I  can  go  a  foot-pace,"  said  he,  as 
he  surveyed  himself  with  some  satisfaction  in  the  pier-glass 
over  the  mantlepiece  in  the  parlor.  There  was  a  titter  at  the 
door,  and  Jack  saw,  with  a  blush,  that  the  housemaid  was 
looking  at  him.  He  wheeled  quickly  around  and  faced  the 
girl. 

"  Well,  you  be,  and  everybody  knows  it,"  said  she,  with  a 
laugh. 

"  Be  what  ?"  said  Jack  sharply. 

"  AVhy,  handsome,  that  you  be !  for  a  boy,"  she  replied. 
"  But,  Master  Jack,  Tom  told  me  to  tell  you  that  the  gypsy, 
Rose,  is  coming  along  the  lea  at  a  great  pace,  and  he  thinks 
she  wants  to  see  you." 


336  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

He  met  the  gypsy  in  the  orchard.  She  was  evidently  excited 
and  out  of  breath,  but  declining  to  go  into  the  house,  she  laid 
her  hand  on  his  arm  and  said : 

"  Now,  Young  Squire,  now's  the  time !  mount  and  ride  fit  to 
split  the  wind!    He's  come  and  the  others  can't  be  far  off!" 

"Your  brother  is  come,  Rose!  Well,  I'm  sure  I'm  very 
glad  ;  but  you  see  I  must  go  over  to  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle's  first. 
I'm  pledged  to  it." 

"Ah,  I  knew  that  would  be  the  way  you  would  keep  your 
word.  But  never  mind ;  he's  there  himself  before  this  time, 
so  order  out  your  horse,  and  don't  spare  him." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  your  brother  is  at  the  Hall,  Rose  ?" 

"  I  do,  and  in  custody.  He  fell  in  with  that  roving  rascal 
Cox  in  London,  and  when  they  came  down  on  the  coach  yes- 
terday that  fellow  allured  him  into  the  covers  at  nightfall,  and 
there  they  are,  pulled  for  poaching  by  Moleskin  and  Parkins. 
I  wish  that  Cox  had  been  drowned  before  he  led  my  Jim  into 
this,  but  no  such  luck — '  born  to  be  hanged,'  you  know,  as  the 
old  saying  goes.  Order  out  your  horse.  You  can  get  Jim  off. 
I  know  you  can,  you  and  your  sister  May.  If  you  don't  get 
him  off " 

"Oh,  I'll  get  him  off  if  I  can.  Rose.  And  I  think  I  can, 
but  not  by  riding  straight  to  the  Hall.  Tom,  saddle  Young 
Cowslip,"  he  shouted,  over  his  shoulder.  "  Rose,  the  hounds 
threw  off  at  Strattou.  I'll  bet  a  guinea  that  I  can  hit  the  line 
of  the  hunt  somewhere  or  another,  and  come  up  with  Lord 
Doomsday." 

"  And  what  the  d — 1  good  will  that  do?"  said  Rose. 

"  Why,  his  influence  is  immense,  and  he'll  do  anything  for 
me,"  said  Jack,  stoutly. 

"  That  for  his  influence  !"  said  the  gypsy,  snapping  her  fin- 
ger and  thumb.  "You  boys  and  men  are  so  stupid.  Don't 
you  see  that  Lady  Snaffle  has  got  more  influence  with  Sir 
Jerry,  and  good  reason,  when  she  chooses  to  use  it,  than  all  the 
lords  in  England.  Sir  Jerry  will  hold  the  examination  when 
he  reaches  home  from  his  hunting.  Get  there  first — I  say,  get 
there  first !  And  let  Lady  Snaffle  know  the  rights  of  it  before 
the  baronet  arrives.  Mind  and  let  her  know  that  Jim's  a 
great  favorite  with  the  Admiral — served  under  him,  and  all 
that.     That'll  go  a  great  way." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOX.  337 

"  By  George,  Rose,  I  believe  you  are  right !" 

"  I  know  I  am,"  said  the  gypsy.  "  Besides,  at  the  Hall  you 
can  see  Moleskin.  He  thinks  more  of  your  father  and  of  May 
and  you  than  of  all  the  other  folks  in  Ridingcumstoke.  If  his 
evidence  is  light,  they'll  get  oil'  with  a  fine,  provided  the  lady 
favors  'em  and  there's  been  a  good  run  to-day 

"  Oh,  there's  always  a  good  run  when  they  meet  at  Stratton, 
Rose.     But  what  has  that  to  do  with  it  ?" 

"  Do  with  it !  why,  if  there's  been  no  run,  Sir  Jerry  will  be 
in  one  of  his  tempers,  and  Lady  Snaffle  will  not  interfere  until 
Jim  is  committed.     Then  it  will  be  too  late." 

"  Yes,  that's  true  ;  but  there  has  been  a  good  run.  I'll  lay 
anybody  ten  to  one  on  it,"  said  the  lad.  "  Why,  Rose,  the 
men  who  stopped  the  earths  in  the  copses  and  gorses  about 
there  last  night  passed  here  at  daylight.  I  gave  them  a  pint 
apiece,  and  asked  them  what  the  prospect  was  for  foxes,  and 
they  said  :  '  Young  master,  the  covers  be  full  on  'em.'  So  you 
see  that's  all  right.  Now,  here's  my  mare.  I  suppose  you  are 
for  the  Hall,  too?" 

"  No,  I  can't  go — not  even  to  see  Jim.  I've  promised  to 
meet  a  man  at  a  certain  place — the  Grange — and  I  must  keep 
the  tryst.     I  must  keep  it." 

"  Who  is  the  man  ?"  said  Young  Jack. 

"  One  you  never  saw,  but  you  will  soon.  Mount  and  ride ! 
Let  nothing  stop  you  !" 

His  hand  was  twined  in  the  mane  of  the  mare,  but  he 
paused  and  said :  "  Rose,  how  about  the  twins,  while  you're 
going  here  and  there  ?" 

"  They're  all  right.  My  eldest  gal  watches  'em,  and  Jenny 
gives  'em  suck.  You'll  see  me  again  to-morrow,"  said  the 
gypsy,  waving  her  hand  and  walking  away  with  long  strides. 

"  She's  a  rum  'un — a  reg'lar  rum  'un,  she  is !"  said  Tom,  as 
his  young  master  mounted ;  "  and  if  I  was  you  I'd  keep  a 
good  lookout,  coming  home  with  Miss  May  after  dusk." 

"  Oh,  you  don't  understand  Rose.  I  do,"  replied  the  lad,  as 
he  rode  through  the  orchard  gate  into  an  adjoining  field. 

The  weather  was  still  gloomy.  A  thin  rain,  cold  and  prick- 
ing to  the  skin,  was  falling  slantwise  from  the  low-flying  drift, 
when  young  Bullfinch  rode  through  the  lanes  and  over  that 
portion  of  the  heath  which  his  sister  had  passed  earlier  in  the 
22 


3o8  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

day.  The  lad  had  a  horseman's  coat  on  over  his  best  clothes, 
and  cared  nothing  for  rain  or  wind.  He  galloped  on,  some- 
times whistling  cheerily,  and  sometimes  humming  a  verse  of 
some  ditty  popular  in  the  country  side,  and  celebrating  fox- 
hunting. Jack  had  nearly  crossed  the  heath  and  was  nearing 
the  woodland  which  lay  beyond  and  bounded  it,  when  he  saw 
a  dark  form  moving  stealthily  among  the  bushes  to  his  left. 
It  was  that  of  a  person  flitting  from  one  bunch  of  gorse  to 
another,  and  apparently  trying  to  elude  his  observation.  The 
lad  was  bold  and  fearless,  but  he  knew  that  suspicious  char- 
acters sometimes  lurked  about  the  neighborhood  of  the  heath, 
and  at  first  he  thought  of  riding  on.  He  had,  however,  a 
desire  to  know  who  it  could  be  that  was  endeavoring  to  steal 
away  like  a  fox  from  cover,  and  determined  to  give  pursuit. 
He  felt  certain  that  the  person  was  no  gypsy,  for  he  was  known 
to  all  the  band,  and  there  was  no  reason  why  any  of  them 
should  avoid  him.  Whoever  it  was,  he  now  lost  sight  of  the 
figure  for  a  moment,  in  a  hollow  where  the  gorse  was  thick 
and  high,  but  saw  it  make  a  dash  up  the  slope  beyond,  and 
quicken  the  pace.  Pulling  out  of  the  road,  he  put  the  mare 
to  a  smart  gallop  over  the  wet  sod  and  through  the  gorse. 
The  other  party  seemed  resolved  to  foil  the  chase,  and  turning 
round  with  a  quick  double,  made  for  the  woodland  with  swift, 
sure  foot.  The  fence  was  at  no  great  distance,  and  before  the 
youth  could  come  up  the  pursued  reached  it,  climbed  a  gate, 
and  disappeared  on  the  other  side.  The  lad  saw  by  the  long 
garments,  as  the  person  mounted  the  gate,  that  it  was  a  woman. 
«'  Well !"  said  Young  Jack,  "  I  will  see  who  this  quean  is,  now." 
He  touched  Young  Cowslip  with  the  spur,  and  riding  at  the 
hedge,  went  crashing  through  the  top  of  it  into  the  cover. 
The  woman,  blown  by  her  sharp  run,  and  believing  that  he 
would  not  follow,  had  stopped  to  draw  breath  near  the  edge 
of  the  wood,  and  stood  leaning  against  an  ash-tree,  as  Jack 
and  the  mare  came  driving  through  the  fence.  Utteriug  an 
exclamation,  she  darted  away  again  at  speed,  and  plunged  like 
a  deer  into  the  underbrush.  But  she  was  at  a  disadvantage, 
for  the  ground  was  boggy,  and  she  was  compelled  to  take  to 
the  open  ride  again.  The  lad  soon  came  up  with  her,  and 
flourishing  his  whip,  he  cried,  "  Stop !  you  can't  get  away  from 
me!     Who  is  it?" 


TEE  WEITE  EOESE  OF  WOOTTOK  339 

"Lord,  Master  Bullfinch!  who  should  it  be?"  said  the 
"woman,  stopping  and  turning  about. 

"  Miriam  !  heart  alive !  Is  this  you  ?  Why  did  you  run 
away  from  me  f     You  surely  knew  me !" 

"  Knew  you  ?  yes.  Run  away !  good  lack !  "What  for, 
indeed  !"  said  she,  panting.  "  I  knew  you  were  going  for  your 
sister ;  and  as  the  night  will  grow  on  apace,  by  and  by,  you 
have  no  time  to  lose.    Ride  on,  Master  Bullfinch.    Good-day.'' 

"  Is  this  all  ?"  said  Young  Jack,  looking  at  her  with  some 
surprise.     "  Come,  we  must  have  a  little  speech  together." 

There  was  a  change  in  the  appearance  of  the  gypsy  since 
he  saw  her  last.  She  looked  older — less  the  girl,  and  more 
the  young  woman  ;  less  wild  and  frolicsome,  though  there  was 
a  smile  upon  her  lip  and  a  merry  twinkle  in  her  bright  black 
eye.  A  warm  flush,  from  her  recent  rapid  running,  shone  in 
her  nut-brown  cheek.  She  was  not  dressed  as  the  gypsy  women 
and  girls  commonly  are,  but  wore  a  gown  and  cloak  of  dark 
merino,  while  a  hood  of  velvet,  trimmed  with  fur,  covered  her 
glossy  black  hair.  She  stood  before  the  lad  as  if  undecided 
what  to  say  or  do ;  seemed  anxious  to  be  rid  of  him,  and  yet 
could  scarcely  control  an  inclination  to  laugh. 

"  And  so  you're  back  among  us  again,  Miriam,"  said  Young 
Jack.     "  I'm  glad  to  see  you — very  glad  !" 

"  Thank  you  !  I  thought  you  would  be.  But  time  wears. 
Master  Bullfinch,  and  you  had  better  ride  on.  You  can  talk 
to  me  another  time,  you  know." 

"  Ay,  but  I  want  you  to  talk  to  me  now.  You  have  been 
away  nearly  a  year.  Tom  Scarlet  has  been  gone  as  long,  and 
I  want  to  hear  all  about  it.  He  has  been  reported  dead,  and 
Lady  Snafile  and  May  will  want  to  know  what  you  say  to 
that." 

"  Master  Bullfinch,"  said  the  gypsy,  with  her  dark,  bright 
eye  full  and  intent  upon  him,  "  I  think  you  had  better  not 
mention  to  them  that  you  have  seen  me.  My  presence  here 
is  not  known  to  any  one  except  our  people  and  one  or  two 
others,  and  there  are  good  reasons  why  it  should  not  be  for  a 
few  days.     So  oblige  me,  and  say  nothing  about  it." 

"  Miriam,"  replied  the  boy,  "  it  can't  be  done.  There's  too 
much  mystery  going  on — too  much  in-and-cfut  running.  Tell 
me  where  Tom  Scarlet  is.  Is  he  come  back  too  ? .  That's  the 
question," 


340  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

"  Bless  us,  Master  Bullfinch  !  you  talk  as  if  his  coming  and 
going  depended  on  me.  You  didn't  expect  me  to  bring  him 
back,  did  you?" 

The  gypsy  moved  tosvards  the  road,  and  Jack  walked  his 
horse  by  her  side.     They  approached  the  beaten  way,  and  he 
said,  "  Come,  Miriam,  no  more  of  this  winding  about  a  hollow 
bush,  and  crying  a  holloa -when  there's  neither  fox  nor  har 
What  do  you  know  about  Tom  Scarlet  ?" 

"I  know  he's  a  fine  young  man — worthy  of  your  sister — and 
that  is  a  great  deal  to  say,"  replied  Miriam. 

"  Yes ;  but  where  is  he  now,  when  he  ought  to  be  here  ?" 

"  On  his  way  home,  no  doubt.  I  hear  he  is  expected  every 
day.  You  may  tell  your  sister  I  said  so,  if  you  mention  having 
met  with  me  at  all,  which  you  had  better  not  do." 

"  I  can't  help  mentioning  that,  lass.  I  wouldn't  keep  it 
secret  for  anything.  May's  my  sister,  and  Lady  Snaffle  always 
behaves  very  handsomely  to  me." 

"  Ah  !"  replied  the  gypsy,  "  see  what  it  is  to  have  to  do  with 
a  boy  instead  of  with  men.  I'll  warrant,  now,  that  if  Sir  Jerry 
and  your  father  had  seen  me  here,  and  heard  me  say  what  I 
have  said  to  you,  they  wouldn't  mention  it  to  her  ladyship  and 
your  sister.  But  you  want  to  be  at  the  ladies'  apron-strings, 
telling  them  some  nice  gossip.  Good-day,  Master  Bullfinch  ; 
ride  on." 

Young  Jack  was  nettled  at  this,  and  not  the  less  so  as  the 
gypsy  laughed  at  the  angry  expression  of  his  face.  "  Very 
well,"  said  he ;  "  You  want  to  put  me  off!  I  won't  be  put  off. 
You  shall  give  me  some  news  of  Tom  Scarlet  before  you  are 
out  of  my  sight.  I'll  follow  you  till  dark,  and  then  again  till 
daylight,  but  what  I'll  have  it.  You  shall  see  whether  I  can't 
stay  away  from  the  ladies'  apron-strings." 

"  Master  Bullfinch,"  said  she,  "  don't  be  so  put  out  with  an 
old  acquaintance  because  of  a  jest.  One  of  the  greatest  pleas- 
ures I  looked  for  when  I  came  back  here  was  meeting  you 
again,  and  seeing  your  sister,  May,  well  ar;d  happy.  At  present 
I  cannot  say  more.  Shake  hands,  aud  ride  on.  I  can  stay 
here  no  longer.  I  expect  a  man  to  pass,  and  he  must  not  find 
us  here,  holding  conference  in  the  shadow  of  the  wood." 

"  Your  uncle !"  said  Young  Jack,  extending  his  hand.  "  I 
can  make  it  all  right  with  him  in  two  minutes." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  341 

«  Kot  my  uncle,"  she  replied,  shaking  his  hand.  "  Another 
man." 

"  What  man  ?  Who  is  he  ?  Miriam  let  us  have  no  more 
mystery." 

"  Well,  I  can't  give  his  hame.  I  promised  not  to  give  it 
for  a  few  days.     He's  a  man  from  America." 

"  It's  Tom'  himself!"  cried  Young  Jack.  "  Miriam,  I  know 
it  is." 

"  Master  Jack,  it  is  not,"  said  she,  earnestly.  "  'Tis  a  man 
you  never  saw  in  your  life,  for  he  never  was  in  this  country 
ijefore.  If  you  meet  him  on  the  road,  as  I  think  you  will  do, 
you'll  see  a  man  different  in  looks  and  ways  from  folks  about 
here.  Something  like  our  people  on  the  moors  and  heaths  in 
some  points,  but  still  no  gypsy.  A  man  rough  and  ready,  but 
as  true  as  steel.  You  need  not  be  afraid  of  him  if  he  stops 
you  on  the  road." 

"  Me  afraid !     I'll  wait  with  you  till  he  comes." 

"  No,  no  !  Hide  on,  and  make  speed.  I'll  see  you  again 
ere  long,  and  tell  you  more.  Perhaps  news  of  Tom  Scarlet. 
Touch  spur.  Young  Jack,  and  away !" 

"  By  George,  Miriam,  you  speak  like  yourself  again.  And 
you  think  Tom  is  all  right?" 

"  Yes,  I  hope  and  believe  he  is,"  she  replied,  walking  off  a 
few  steps. 

"  One  word  more.    How  about  Jagger  ?    Is  he  come  back  ?" 

"Jagger!  Oh,  Master  Bullfinch,  he  is  dead  !  He  died  as 
the  fool  dieth.    He  was  killed  when  Tom " 

"  When  Tom  what  ?    And  who  killed  Jagger  ?" 

"  A  man  in  America.     Good-by." 

With  this  the  girl  drew  her  cloak  about  her,  turned  back, 
and  hurried  away  deeper  into  the  wood.  Young  Jack  looked 
after  her  for  a  moment.  He  then  gained  the  highway,  and 
rode  on  at  a  strong  gallop. 

He  had  not  gone  above  half  a  mile  when  another  horseman 
approached  at  speed  equal  to  his  own.  The  man  wore  a  blue 
coat  of  pilot  cloth,  buttoned  up  to  the  chin.  His  face  was 
dark,  his  eye  bright  and  keen  as  that  of  a  hawk,  and  locks  of 
black  hair  appeared  under  the  rim  of  his  low-crowned  glazed 
hat.  He  sat  his  horse  with  the  ease  and  power  of  one  who  had 
been  accustomed  to  riding  from  early  youth.     As  they  neared 


342  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

each  other  the  man  and  the  boy  checked  the  speed  of  their 
horses,  and  after  a  good  look,  pulled  up  together  in  the  middle 
of  the  road. 

The  man  spoke  first.  His  eye  seemed  to  be  all  over  the  lad 
and  his  horse  in  an  instant,  and  he  said,  in  a  clear  voice  and 
prompt  manner : 

"  You  seem  to  be  in  a  hurry,  j^oung  gentleman.  You  ride 
fast." 

"  No  faster  than  you,"  replied  the  lad,  with  some  undefina- 
ble  feeling  of  uneasiness  at  finding  himself  face  to  face  in  the 
lonely  road  with  this  man. 

"  Well,  considering  that  I  hardly  know  my  road,  I  was 
going  pretty  fast,  I  allow,"  said  the  stranger.  "  But  where 
may  you  be  going  to  at  a  gallop  ?     Anybody  sick  ?" 

"  No,  sir,  nobody  sick.  I  am  going  to  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle's," 
replied  the  youth,  with  some  assumption  of  dignity,  and  a 
movement  as  if  he  could  brook  no  more  delay. 

"  Hold  on !  I  shan't  detain  you  more  than  a  minute.  Sir 
Jerry  Snaffle!     It  seems  to  me  that  I  have  heard  of  him." 

"  I  should  think  you  have,"  said  the  youth,  with  a  shade 
of  emphasis  which  the  stranger  marked,  but  did  not  notice  in 
reply.     Indeed,  he  changed  the  topic,  saying : 

"  That's  a  nice  young  mare  you're  on.     What's  her  name  ?" 

"  Cowslip,"  said  Young  Jack,  somewhat  surprised  at  the  free 
and  easy  way  of  the  stranger,  in  thus  putting  to  him  the 
question  ;  "  Young  Cowslip." 

"  O !  then  old  Cowslip's  at  home  ?  Dam  of  this  mare,  no 
doubt?" 

"  No,  sister  of  this  mare,  and  not  old,  either.  Neither  is 
she  at  home,  for  father  has  her  out  hunting." 

"  Ay,  ay  !  hold  on  a  bit.  I  want  you  to  tell  me  my  road  in 
a  minute." 

With  this  the  stranger  produced  a  flint  and  a  dangerous- 
looking  knife,  and  striking  fire  on  some  very  combustible  sub- 
stance, lit  a  cigar. 

"I  reckon  your  name  is  Bullfinch,  young  sir?" 

"  That  is  my  name,"  replied  the  youth.     "  What  is  yours?" 

"  Well,  that  is  nothing  to  the  purpose,"  said  the  stranger. 
"  You  live  in  these  parts,  and  your  name  is  naturally  of  inter- 
est to  a  stranger  to  these  parts.     I  don't  live  here,  and  so  my 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  343 

name  is  nothiDg  to  you,  don't  you  see !  Bullfinch  is  a  good 
name — a  very  good  name.  I  hope  your  father  and  sister  are 
well.     By  the  by,  I  suppose  you  left  your  sister  at  home  ?" 

"  No,  I  didn't.  She  is  at  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle's.  I  am  going 
there  to  see  her  home,  and  must  not  delay  any  more." 

"  Hold  on  !  hold  on  another  minute  !  you  have  not  told  me 
the  road.  No  doubt  you  can  show  me  which  is  the  way  to  a 
place  called  the  Grange." 

"  The  Grange  !  why,  that  is  Tom  Scarlet's  place." 

"  So  I've  heard !     What  of  it  ?"  said  the  stranger,  coolly. 

"  He's  ray  friend  !  My  father's  friend  !  My  sister's  very 
dear  friend !  You  bring  news  of  him,  I  hope.  You  come  from 
America." 

"  I  never  told  you  so,  my  lad." 

"  No  matter !  I  know  you  do.  Now  tell  me  news — do  tell 
me  good  news  of  him,"  said  Young  Jack,  earnestly. 

"Good  news!  Well,  I  have  heard  that  he  may  be  here 
soon.  That  is  what  they  say.  It  may  not  be  good  news  to 
some.  I've  heard  that  there  are  people  who  do  not  like  him 
in  these  parts.     What  do  you  say  to  that  ?" 

"  I  say  everybody  likes  him  that  is  of  any  consideration. 
You  should  hear  my  father  relate  what  Sir  Jerry  said  about 
him  at  the  hunt  dinner,  when  it  was  reported  that  he  had  been 
killed  in  America." 

"Ah!  they  reported  he  was  killed.  Well,  if  he  wasn't  it 
was  a  miracle,  for  he  was  shot  in  the  head  and  went  down  into 
the  rapids  of  the  Neosho.  If  he  lived  after  that  he's  the  only 
man  that  ever  did." 

Young  Jack's  countenance  fell.  He  looked  at  the  stranger, 
but  there  was  no  sign  of  emotion  in  the  dark,  strong-cut  face 
of  the  man  who  sat  in  the  saddle  and  smoked  the  segar  which 
diffused  a  fragrance  all  around. 

"  It  may  be  a  mistake  !  It  may  have  been  another  man," 
said  Jack. 

"  Englishmen  are  not  plenty  out  there  in  the  Indian  coun- 
try," replied  the  stranger. 

"  It  may  have  been  another,"  said  Jack.  "  There  was  one 
Jagger.     Do  you  remember  such  a  person  about  thd-e  ?" 

"  I  ought  to.  I  killed  him,"  said  the  stranger  with  much 
indifference,  "  but  he  was  not  the  man  who  went  down  the 


344  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

rapids.  That  was  Scarlet.  After  all,  it  is  but  a  man  gone, 
and  no  doubt  there  are  plenty  better  left  about  here." 

"  There  are  none — not  one  better — not  one  as  good.  Poor, 
poor  Tom  !  Oh,  what  shall  I  say  or  do  ?"  cried  the  lad,  with 
a  quivering  lip  and  a  very  sad  expression  of  face. 

"  Why,  if  I  was  you  I  would  say  nothing  at  present.  Mind, 
I  don't  aver  that  he  is  dead.  He  may  be  alive,  and  come  for- 
ward when  least  expected." 

"  Ah !  if  he  does  everybody  will  be  so  rejoiced." 

"  Everybody !  why  don't  you  know  that  the  backers  of  the 
Duke,  in  this  great  steeple-chase  match  I  hear  about,  would  as 
soon  see  the  devil  as  Tom  Scarlet  in  the  saddle." 

"  No !"  replied  Young  Jack.  "  The  Duke  himself  likes 
Tom,  and  would  sooner  lose  the  match  than  be  convinced  of 
his  death." 

"  Very  well !  I  hope  the  Duke  will  lose  it.  I  shall  lay 
against  him  if  I  happen  to  be  there.  Sir  Jerry  wil]  have  the 
best  horse  and  the  best  rider,  and  by  all  accounts  he's  the  best 
man  of  the  two.     AVhich  is  my  road  ?" 

"  Straight  on  till  you  come  to  the  heath.  You'll  see  the 
glow  of  the  fires  at  the  gypsy  camp  to  the  right.  The  people 
there  will  tell  you  the  way  from  that  point.  You  needn't  be 
afraid  of  the  gypsies.     You  will  not  be,  I  think." 

"  I  think  not,"  said  the  stranger,  with  a  smile.  "  You  are 
a  likely  lad !  Give  my  regards  to  your  father,  and  my  re- 
spects, my  very  particular  respects,  to  your  sister.  Good-by, 
Master  Bullfinch.     I  shall  see  you  again." 

"But  I  cannot  tell  my  father  and  sister  who  you  are.  I 
don't  know  your  name,"  said  Jack. 

"True,  I  had  forgotten  that.  You  can  say  a  man  from 
America.  And  you  may  add  that,  in  spite  of  all  that  has 
happened,  Tom  Scarlet  may  be  all  right,  and  turn  up  when 
least  expected.  It's  true  he  was  shot,  but  I  have  been  shot 
three  or  four  times  myself,  and  here  I  am  alive  and  merry. 
He  also  went  down  the  rapids,  and  it  had  such  an  ugly  look, 
that  at  one  time  I  gave  him  up  as  gone,  past  all  hope.  But 
there  is  a  man  out  there,  well  known  he  is  to  me,  who  went 
down  through  a  canyon  of  the  Colorado,  and  that's  worse.  So 
he  may  be  alive.  There's  always  hope  about  a  man  thought 
to  be  dead,  until  the  body  has  been  found.     Good-by,  Master 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK.  345 

Bullfinch !  Good-by,  Young  Jack !  Take  care  of  Young 
Cowslip,  Jack,  and  do  all  you  can  to  cheer  up  your  sister. 
We  shall  soon  meet  again."  • 

With  this  the  stranger  struck  his  horse  with  the  whip,  and 
dashed  away.  Young  Jack  looked  after  him  until  he  dis- 
appeared, and  then  said,  "  For  a  man  who  has  killed  another 
or  two,  not  in  war  time,  and  has  been  shot  three  or  four  times 
himself,  this  is  the  coolest  person  I  ever  heard  of.  After  all, 
I  have  hopes  of  Tom.  Miriam  said  this  man  was  true  as  steel, 
and  there  was  something  in  his  manner  that  meant  more  than 
he  said.  I  noticed  how  he  looked  up  and  smiled  whenever  he 
mentioned  May.  It  made  his  face  look  pleasant.  He  does 
not  seem  to  be  a  bad  fellow.  I'm  glad  I  didn't  mention  Miriam 
to  him,  for  a  glint  came  into  his  eye  at  times  like  the  light 
from  that  of  a  cat  in  the  dark.  There's  no  telling  how  he 
would  have  taken  it,  if  I  had  told  him  I  chased  and  pounded 
her.     What  will  Lady  Snaffle  and  INIay  say  to  all  this  ?" 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 


A  SHARP  gallop  of  twenty  minutes  brought  young  Bull- 
finch to  the  Hall,  where  he  proposed  to  see  Moleskin 
before  he  presented  himself  to  Lady  Snaffle.  But  before  he 
could  make  any  inquiry  as  to  the  keeper  and  his  prisoners,  a 
footman  announced  to  him  that  Lady  Snaffle  wished  to  see 
him  in  the  library.  Thither  he  went,  and  the  lady  of  the 
house,  receiving  him  graciously,  desired  him  to  take  a  seat. 
Young  Jack  would  have  postponed  the  interview^  for  a  short 
time  if  he  could  have  found  a  plausible  excuse  for  doing  so, 
but  none  occurred  to  him  at  the  moment,  and  Lady  Snaffle 
said : 

"  Master  Bullfinch,  we  have  had  quite  an  adventure  since 
your  sister's  arrival.  Moleskin  and  the  constable  came  here, 
bringing  two  prisoners — sailors  from  America." 

"  O,  yes,  my  lady.  I  heard  of  it  from  Rose  Tanner.  She 
came  to  Hawk'ell  in  a  great  to-do  about  her  brother,  who  was 
led  into  it  by  Cox.  She  says  she  wishes  Cox  had  been  drowned 
before  he  got  her  brother  into  that  trouble,  but  there  was  no 


346  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

such  luck,  because  he  was  born  to  be  hanged.  If  your  lady- 
ship pleases,  I  should  like  to  see  Moleskiu  for  a  few  minutes 
before  Sir  Jerry  arrives  to  hold  the  examination  of  the  men." 

"  Master  Bullfinch,  Moleskin  is  gone,  and  the  men  are  gone, 
too." 

"  Not  to  prison,  I  hope — I  do  hope  not  to  jail,"  said  Jack, 
with  alarm.  "  Much  depends  upon  Rose  and  her  brother,  and 
perhaps  on  Cox." 

"  Why,  your  sister  and  I  had  no  power  to  commit  them," 
said  Lady  Snaffle,  "  so  we  discharged  them — set  them  at  lib- 
erty.    At  least,  we  procured  their  discharge." 

"  Thank  you.  Lady  Snaffle !  Rose  said  you  could  do  it," 
said  the  lad,  with  much  animation.  "  Yet  I  should  have  been 
glad  if  I  could  have  seen  Cooper  before  he  left  here.  I  think 
he  could  have  helped  us  at  this  pinch  in  regard  to  the  safety 
and  present  whereabouts  of  Tom  Scarlet ;  for  Rose  said  that 
when  he  arrived  she  should  know  something  without  the 
trouble  of  consulting  the  stars.  Here  he  would  have  told  all 
that  he  knows ;  for  Rose  says  his  gratitude  to  the  Admiral 
and  his  respect  for  all  the  family  are  very  great." 

"Master  Jack,  he  has  told  us  all  he  knows,"  said  Lady 
Snaffle.  She  then  related  the  incidents  which  had  occurred, 
and  repeated  what  Cox  and  Cooper  had  said. 

"  Please,  madam,"  said  Young  Jack,  "  I  want  to  see  the 
totem.  May,  show  me  the  totem.  Ah !  the  head  of  a  red 
horse !  My  lady,  that's  significant.  I  have  had  an  adventure 
myself  on  the  road  here,  and  have  seen  two  other  persons  from 
America." 

"  Indeed  !     Who  were  they.  Master  Bullfinch?" 

"  The  first,  my  lady,  was  Miriam  Cotswold." 

"  Oh,  dear  !"  said  May.     "  Then  she  has  got  back  ?" 

"  Go  on,  sir.  AVliat  did  she  say  in  regard  to  her  adventures, 
and  to  others  ?"  said  Lady  Snaffle. 

"  Very  little  indeed,  my  lady.  She  tried  to  avoid  me ;  but 
I  ran  her  down,  as  I  may  say,  being  well  mounted.  Then  she 
was  mysterious,  and  wanted  to  get  rid  of  me,  telling  me  not  to 
mention  to  you  and  May  that  I  had  seen  her,  as  she  wanted  to 
be  secret  for  a  very  short  time.  But  that,  of  course,  was  out 
of  the  question.  Then  she  became  very  friendly — said  she  had 
come  back  mainly  to  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting  me  and 
seeing  May  hai)py  as  the  day  is  long." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO  N.  347 

"  My  dear  May,"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  "  is  this  gypsy  an  artful, 
treacherous  person — one  likely  to  have  adopted  these  profes- 
sions as  a  means  of  deceiving  your  brother  and  blinding  us  ?" 

"  Dear  lady,  I  think  not,"  said  May,  after  a  moment's  con- 
sideration. "  She  was  always  thought  frank  and  bold,  rather 
than  crafty  and  treacherous.  But  the  habits  and  nature  of 
those  people  lead  them  to  deal  in  mystery  and  roundabout 
ways.  Miriam  will  do  no  harm.  She  was  often  brought  to 
our  house  by  her  mother,  before  she  lost  her,  and  before  I  and 
my  brother  lost  our  dear  mother." 

"  May,  you  are  right.  I  know  you  are.  I  am  sure  Miriam 
is  friendly  to  us,"  said  Young  Jack. 

"  Perhaps  so — I  hope  so,"  said  Lady  Snaffle.  "  But  what 
else  did  she  say  ?" 

"  My  lady,  I  do  not  judge  so  much  by  tohat  she  said  as  by 
her  voice  and  the  look  of  her  eye  when  she  said  it.  She  said 
she  hoped  Tom  would  soon  be  here — that  she  was  satisfied  he 
would." 

"And  what  else?" 

"  That  Jagger  was  dead — killed  in  America." 

"  Jagger !     \Yho  is  Jagger  ?" 

"  The  man  who  ran  away  with  the  White  Horse  and  her 
uncle's  money,  besides  a  great  deal  more,"  said  Jack. 

"  What  more  said  she,  and  where  was  she  going  ?" 

"  She  was  going  to  the  camp  on  the  heath,  and  she  told 
nothing  more,"  replied  Jack.  "  I  pressed  her  hard,  but  she 
said  she  couldn't — she  was  under  a  promise.  Xow,  Rose  said 
she  was  under  a  promise,  too,  my  lady ;  and  I  think  I  know 
the  man  to  whom  their  promises  are  given.  If  Rose's  brother 
was  here  now  he  would  tell  your  ladyship  what  these  promises 
are  about,  if  your  ladyship  commanded  him  to  do  so ;  for,  as 
Hose  says,  '  he  honors  the  Admiral,  and  obeys  orders.'  " 

"  I,  however,  should  hardly  be  able  to  compel  his  obedience," 
said  Lady  Snaffle. 

"  Oh,  yes,  your  ladyship  would,  for  he  has  been  in  men-of- 
war  for  the  last  eighteen  years,  and  in  Admiral  Broadside's 
absence  he  would  consider  your  ladyship  as  in  command. 
Besides,  my  lady,  he  has  been  away  from  the  gypsies  long 
enough  to  have  dropped  their  mystery  and  in-and-out  running 
methods  of  dealing.  As  it  is,  I  must  look  up  Rose  early  in 
the  morning,  and  with  her  and  the  twins  I  shall  find  Cooper." 


348  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  And  to  whom  are  the  gypsy  women  under  promise,  Master 
Bullfinch  ?"  said  Lady  Snaffle. 

"  To  the  man  that  I  met  shortly  after  I  parted  from  Miriam, 
my  lady.  She  said  I  should  probably  meet  a  man  on  the  road, 
and  I  did.  He  was  a  sinewy,  strong  man — well  mounted  and 
a  capital  horseman,  as  I  could  see  at  a  glance." 

"  Who  was  he  ?  Let  us  know  that  first.  Tell  me  directly, 
Master  Jack.  Was  it  not  Tom  Scarlet  ?"  said  Lady  Snaffle, 
impetuously. 

"  Bless  me,  my  lady  !  no.  'Twas  a  stranger  to  these  parts — 
a  man  from  America." 

"  What  man  from  America — this  makes  three  in  twenty- 
four  hours  or  less  ?" 

"  Oh,  Lady  Snaffle,  the  man  who  killed  Jagger.  He  told 
me  that  he  was." 

"What!  he  killed  a  person,  and  avows  it?  May,  my 
dear,  you  must  not  think  of  going  home  to-night,  with  this 
fearful  man  on  the  road." 

"  If  your  ladyship  pleases,  there  will  be  no  danger  at  all ; 
I  shall  be  with  May,"  said  Jack.  "  And  I  think  this  man 
may  be  a  very  good  man,  though  he  did  kill  Jagger.  People 
say  that  your  ladyship's  father  has  killed  some  hundreds  in 
his  time." 

"  Master  Bullfinch,  I  desire  you  not  to  compare  this  blood- 
thirsty man  from  America  to  my  father.  He  was  an  officer 
in  the  fleet,  a  captain  under  Nelson.  It  was  in  the  course  of 
war  and  duty,  and  those  they  killed  were  Frenchmen  and 
Spaniards  !" 

"  Jagger  was  a  rogue,"  said  Young  Jack,  and  then  added 
hastily :  "  But  please  forgive  me,  my  lady.  I  only  meant  that 
the  man  might  not  be  so  very  bad  after  all.  I'm  sure  I  hope 
not." 

"  You  are  a  good,  brave  boy,  Master  Jack.  But,  my  dear 
May,  I  do  not  like  it.  The  killing  a  man,  not  in  battle,  and 
then  announcing  it  off-hand  to  a  strange  youth,  is  dreadl'ul. 
You  must  not  go  home ;  at  least  not  until  Sir  Jerry  comes." 

"  Please,  my  lady,  I  am  sure  we  need  fear  nothing  at  the 
hands  of  this  man  from  America.  He  had  heard  of  Sir  Jerry. 
He  spoke  highly  of  my  father.  He  sent  his  respectful  regards 
— his  particular  regards  to  May.     He  praised  me  and  Young 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  349 

Cowslip ;  and  he  said  I  should  see  him  again.  And  Miriam 
Cotswoid  said  before  I  met  him  that  he  was  rough  and  ready, 
but  as  true  as  steel." 

"  Did  he  say  anything  of  Tom  Scarlet  ?" 

"Yes,  madam,  that  he  heard  he  would  soon  be  home," 
replied  Jack,  with  some  hesitation  and  confusion. 

"  Master  Bullfinch,  tell  me  all  he  said  about  Mr.  Scarlet." 

"  0,  my  lady  !  O,  my  dear  sister  May  !  Tom  was  shot  in  the 
head,  and  fell  into  the  river  above  the  rapids,  and  the  peril 
was  fearful.  But  the  man  says  he  knows  one  in  America  who 
went  down  a  cauyon  of  the  Colorado,  yet  is  alive  at  this  day, 
and  Tom  may  have  escaped.  And,  my  lady — May,  my  dear 
sister — I  know  he  escaped.  I  feel  certain  that  he  did,  and  he 
will  soon  be  here." 

"  How  do  you  reach  such  positive  belief?"  said  Lady  Snaffle. 

"  My  lady,  I  reach  it  because  this  man  knows  all  about  the 
steeple-chase  match,  and  because  he  said  that  he  would  bet 
against  the  Duke,  for  that  Sir  Jerry  would  have  the  best  horse 
aod  the  best  rider,  and  was  the  best  man  of  the  two." 

"Then  I  do  not  believe  him,"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  hastily. 
"  I  mean,  my  dear  May  and  Jack,  about  the  bet  and  the  horse 
and  rider,"  she  added,  with  a  smile. 

"  Dear  Lady  Snaffle,"  said  May,  with  a  confiding  look,  "  can 
you  not  guess  who  this  man  is  ?  The  sailor  Cox  spoke  of  one 
in  America  who  was  Mr.  Scarlet's  fast  friend,  and  would  take 
desperate  chances  for  him." 

"  The  Indian,  my  dear?" 

"  Oh,  no,  dear  lady  ;  the  white  man,  Sassafras." 

"My  dear  May,  I  think  you  are  right.  The  man  your 
brother  has  met  is  Sassafras,  and  Scarlet  cannot  be  far  off". 
When  you  spoke,  I  thought  of  the  Indian — what  is  his  name, 
Nutmeg,  Allspice,  Cloves — what  was  it  ?" 

"  Cinnamon." 

"  So  it  was.  Now,  I  shall  have  much  to  tell  Sir  Jerry,  and 
you  and  Jack  will  have  much  to  tell  your  father — the  sailor 
Cox,  and  his  statement,  and  the  story  he  told  of  the  Indian, 
and  the  delivery  of  the  totem.  The  boarding  of  the  ship  of 
war,  according  to  Cooper,  by  Miriam  Cotswoid  and  Sassafras ; 
the  meeting  of  Master  Jack  with  Miriam,  and  what  she  said ; 
and  what  Rose  Tanner,  the  gypsy  with  the  twins,  said ;  the 


850  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON, 

meeting  of  your  brother  and  Sassafras,  and  what  the  man  from 
America  said — oh!  it  will  be  a  charming  narrative,"  said  Lady 
Snaffle.  "  There  is  one  thing,  however,  my  dear,  that  rather 
perplexes  me.  Men  are  so  matter-of-fact  and  incredulous. 
Sir  Jerry  will  call  for  the  production  of  the  sailors,  the  gyp- 
sies and  Sassafras,  in  order  that  they  may  be  required  to  pro- 
duce Tom  Scarlet.  Master  Bullfinch,  do  you  think  you  can 
produce  these  parties  at  short  notice  ?" 

"  My  lady,  I  can  do  almost  anything  in  reason,"  replied 
Jack,  "  and  I  think  I  can  do  this,  when  Sassafras  is  willing. 
My  belief  is  that  I  know  where  the  sailors,  Miriam,  Rose  Tan- 
ner and  Sassafras  are  now,  this  very  minute." 

"  Where,  Master  Jack  ?" 

"  At  the  Grange,  my  lady.  Or  at  the  camp  not  far  from 
the  Grange." 

"  Then  Tom  Scarlet  must  be  with  them." 

"  I  doubt  it,  Lady  Snaffle,"  said  Young  Jack.  "  Please,  my 
lady,  these  four  have  just  come  from  America,  like  birds  of 
passage,  and  settled  down  here  like — like  plovers  we'll  say, 
though  it's  too  soon  for  them  yet.  Now,  my  lady,  if  you 
please,  they  may  have  good  reasons  for  keeping  Tom  aw^ay  for 
the  present." 

"  Sir  Jerry  will  insist  that  they  produce  him." 

"  Oh,  my  lady,  I  think  not.  Suppose  what  they  do  is  part 
of  a  well-planned  and  beautiful  '  plant '  in  regard  to  the  great 
match.  Madam,  besides  the  stakes,  two  thousand  guineas,  the 
honor  of  our  hunt,  and  of  all  this  side  of  the  county  is  in- 
volved. Oh,  my  lady,  depend  upon  it  that  Tom  and  Sassafras 
have  concocted  a  beautiful  scheme  and  '  plant,'  by  means  of 
which  to  win  the  great  match.  I'm  sure  Sir  Jerry  wdll  never 
be  the  man  to  defeat  such  a  thing." 

"  Right,  young  Bullfinch  !"  exclaimed  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle,  as 
he  came  forward.  He  had  entered  unannounced,  and  with 
him  there  was  a  much  younger  gentleman.  They  were  in  the 
uniform  of  the  hunt.  Lord  Doomsday  appeared  to  be  rather 
confused  as  he  bowed  low  to  Lady  Snaffle  and  to  Miss  Bull- 
finch. "You  see,  my  lady,  I  have  been  able  to  prevail  upon 
Lord  Doomsday  to  come  and  take  a  family  dinner  with  us. 
If  Miss  Bullfinch  and  her  brother  will  stay  we  shall  be  a  nice 
family  party." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOX.  351 

_"  I  am  delighted  to  see  his  lordship,"  said  Lady  Snaffle. 
*'You  know  our  young  friends,  my  lord.  I  have  heard  the 
history  of  the  great  run  with  the  Fringford  Gorse  fox,  from 
Master  Bullfinch,  and  my  goddaughter,  May,  has  told  me  of 
the  enjoyment  you  have  afibrded  her  father." 

"  I  think  the  greater  part  of  the  enjoyment  was  mine.  Lady 
Snaffle.  I  have  had  the  pleasure,  the  great  pleasure,  of  meet- 
in  o-  IMiss  Bullfinch  and  her  brother  at  their  father's  house  sev- 
eral  times,"  said  the  young  man,  frankly. 

"  ^lay,  you  will  stay,  will  you  not  ?" 

"Oh,  no,  my  lady,  we  cannot.  My  father  will  expect  us, 
and  he  would  be  lonely,"  said  May. 

Lady  Snaffle  knew  that  when  May  said  anything  positively, 
it  was  of  little  use  to  try  to  change  her  determination.  She, 
therefore,  recounted  briefly  and  rapidly  to  Sir  Jerry  all  the 
events  of  the  day.  The  baronet  listened  with  much  interest, 
and  so  did  Lord  Doomsday.  When  the  lady  had  finished  her 
narrative,  the  former  said,  "  I  wish  the  sailors  had  been  de- 
tained until  I  came  home — not  that  I  would  have  them  pun- 
ished, but  with  them  in  custody  we  should  have  some  sort  of 
hold  upon  the  women  and  the  American.  It  is  clear  that 
some  of  them,  certainly  the  American,  and  the  girl,  Miriam, 
and  perhaps  Rose  Tanner,  know  all  about  Tom  Scarlet,  and  it 
concerns  me  to  know  it,  too,  and  that  very  soon." 

"  Surely,  as  a  magistrate,  chairman  of  the  bench,  you  can 
make  them  give  information,  Sir  Jerry,"  said  Lady  Snaffle. 

"  Why,  I  could  have  done  so,  but  you  have  let  the  means 
go.  The  sailors  cannot  be  arrested  again.  The  women  have 
done  nothing,  that  I  know  of,  except  held  interviews  with  our 
young  friend,  Master  Jack.     Neither  has  the  American." 

"  Sir  Jerry,  I'm  surprised  !  The  American,  by  his  own  con- 
fession— nay,  his  cool  avowal — has  killed  a  man,  and  surely 
he  can  be  taken  up?" 

"  Not  at  all,  my  dear.  I  have  no  jurisdiction.  Ask  Dooms- 
day." 

«'  Then  how  are  we  to  find  where  ^Ir.  Scarlet  is  ?" 

"  I  wish  I  knew  how.  We  cannot  well  send  the  bellman 
round  to  cry  a  reward  for  him." 

"  Sir  Jerry,  you  are  too  absurd.  I  wish  my  father  was  here. 
He  would  soon  make  them  produce  him." 


352  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

"  Laura,  I  know  what  your  father  would  do.  He  would 
very  sooa  get  out  of  the  man-of-\var's-man  all  that  he  knows, 
which  is  very  little,  for,  according  to  his  own  account,  he  never 
saw  Tom  Scarlet,  and  did  not  know  Miriam  when  she  boarded 
his  ship  with  the  American  at  New  York.  The  Admiral  would 
then  turn  to  the  gypsy  women,  if  he  could  catch  them.  But 
we  can  do  with  them  all  that  he  could  do,  and,  I  think,  more. 
He  could  not  well  read  the  articles  of  war  to  them,  and 
threaten  the  cat-o'-nine-tails  if  they  did  not  split.  As  for  the 
American,  he  would  be  certain  to  defy  the  Admiral  to  his 
teeth.  Miss  Bullfinch,  tell  me  your  opinion  of  this  American. 
He  seems  to  me  to  control  the  gypsy  women  and  the  sailor, 
Cox." 

"  I  have  never  seen  the  man,  Sir  Jerry,  but  my  brother  has, 
and  he  has  quick  perception." 

*'  Please,  Sir  Jerry,  I  have.  JMay  is  right.  I  pronounced 
Lord  Doomsday  a  good  one  from  the  first  time  I  saw  him," 
said  Young  Jack,  briskly. 

"  Let  your  sister  proceed.  Master  Jack.  Her  opinion  in 
this  matter  will  be  of  more  value,  I  think,  than  that  of  all  the 
rest  of  us." 

"  My  brother's  opinion  of  the  American  is  very  favorable, 
Sir  Jerry,  and  I  have  still  greater  faith  in  him." 

"  Why,  my  dear  young  lady  ?" 

"  Because  of  his  character.  Sir  Jerry.  I  first  heard  it  last 
spring  when  Cotsvvold  told  my  father  of  him,  and  delivered 
two  letters  from  Mr.  Scarlet.  In  these  letters  he  was  spoken 
of  in  the  highest  terms.  The  gypsy  spoke  of  him  as  such  men 
never  speak  of  any  one  who  is  not  brave,  honest,  and  true  to 
his  professions.  Pie  is  a  horseman — a  great  horseman !  and 
Oh,  Sir  Jerry  and  dear  Lady  Snafile  !  I  never  in  my  life  knew 
a  really  great  horseman  who  was  a  treacherous,  pitiful  rogue. 
It  would  be  against  nature !"  said  May,  with  emphasis. 

"  Now,  thank  you,  May  Bullfinch,  for  speaking  such  a 
sovereign  truth,"  said  Sir  Jerry, 

"And  in  this  I  heartily  join,"  exclaimed  Lord  Doomsday. 
"  It  is  a  truth." 

"  I  really  think  it  is,"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  "  for  my  husband, 
John  Bullfinch,  and  Major  Fitzgerald  are  instances." 

"  So  is  Tom  Scarlet,  my  lady  !  And,  Lord  Doomsday,  you're 
another,  as  the  saying  is,"  cried  Young  Jack. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  353 

"  Ay,"  said  May,  "  there  is  no  truer  heart  than  that  of  the 
man  who  is  absent,  and  none  (dropping  her  voice)  more  gen- 
erous and  kind  than  that  of  the  young  nobleman  who  is  present. 
Since  w^e  never  doubted  Mr.  Scarlet,  why  should  w^e  doubt  his 
friend  ?  The  sailor  said  to-day  that  he  could  not  be  dead 
because  Sassafras  was  with  him,  a  man  who  w^ould  take  des- 
perate chances  rather  than  have  him  hurt.  Sir  Jerry,  I  have 
full  faith  in  this  man  from  America.  If  he  had  done  wrong, 
or  deserted  his  friend  at  need,  or  even  if  he  had  bad  news  to 
relate,  he  w^ould  not  have  sent  the  message  to  my  father  and 
— to  me." 

*'  That's  as  clear  as  the  sun  at  noonday,"  said  Sir  Jerry. 

"  And  he  would  not  be  going  to  bet  against  the  Duke  in 
the  match,"  said  Young  Jack.  "  Oh,  Sir  Jerry,  consider  the 
bearings  of  the  match !" 

May  Bullfinch  drew  nearer  to  Lady  Snafile.  She  blushed 
and  was  a  little  shame-faced,  having  done  speaking.  How 
came  the  insight  and  apt  reasoning  from  one  who  was  usually 
distinguished  for  maidenly  reserve  ?  Why,  she  would  die  for 
Tom  Scarlet ;  and  the  man,  Sassafras,  from  all  that  she  could 
learn  and  divine,  would  die  for  him  too,  at  need.  "  A  fellow 
feeling  makes  us  wondrous  kind,"  and  sometimes  eloquent  and 
wise  as  well. 

"  I  must  sleep  upon  this,  and  then  determine  how  to  act," 
said  Sir  Jerry.  "  Lady  Snafile,  we  had  a  great  run  to-day — a 
grand  run.     Lord  Doomsday  was  in  at  the  death." 

The  ladies  and  young  Bullfinch  congratulated  his  lordship. 

"My  lord,  I'm  so  glad,"  said  Young  Jack.  "Of  course 
the  country  was  stiff*." 

"  I  should  think  so.  We  found  at  Stratton  and  he  w^ent 
right  through  the  Bicester  Yale.  All  the  fences  are  big  there," 
said  Sir  Jerry. 

"  I  wish  I  had  been  there,"  said  Jack.  "  I  was  upon  the 
point  of  trying  to  come  up  with  Lord  Doomsday  to  ask  for 
his  influence  in  favor  of  Jim  Tanner,  but  Rose  said — said 
something." 

"And  what  was  it  she  said.  Master  Jack?"  said  Sir 
Jerry. 

"  If  you  please.  Lord  Doomsday  and  Sir  Jerry,  I  hope  it 
won't  give  ofifeuce.  She  said,  'That  for  his  influence!  (suap- 
23 


354  THE  WHITE  HOUSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

ping  his  fingers)  Lady  SuafHe  has  more  influence  with  Sir 
Jerry,  and  reason  good,  than  twenty  lords !' " 

The  baronet  laughed  heartily,  >vhile  Lady  Snaffle  and  the 
young  lord  had  some  difficulty  in  refraining  from  laughter 
themselves.  The  gentlemen  then  retired.  In  a  few  minutes, 
however,  the  footman  announced  that  Sir  Jerry  wished  to  see 
Master  Bullfinch  for  a  moment. 

"  Now,  Master  Bullfinch,"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  "you  must 
not  say  that  there  is  a  beautiful  scheme,  a  plan,  in  pursuance 
of  which  Tom  Scarlet  is  to  be  kept  concealed.  I  insist  upon 
it  that  he  shall  be  produced.     Tell  Sir  Jerry  that." 

"  Master  Jack,  do  you  happen  to  know  where  Jack  Cots- 
wold  is  at  present  ?"  said  the  baronet,  as  the  boy  entered  his 
room. 

"  Why,  no.  Sir  Jerry.  Stop !  Eose  said  at  Christmas  that 
he  had  gone  to  Lancashire.  I  have  it.  Sir  Jerry  !  Where  he 
is  Tom  is,  and  please.  Sir  Jerry,  they  are  watering  the  'plant.' " 

"  AVatering  the  *  plant.'     Then  there  is  a  *  plant  ?'  " 

"  O,  if  you  please.  Sir  Jerry,  I  forgot.  I  was  not  to  men- 
tion that,  and  I  must  not  disobey  her  ladyship  for  anything." 

"  You  imagine  Tom  Scarlet  is  in  England,  and  will  be  here 
to  ride  in  the  match  ?" 

"  Yes,  Sir  Jerry,  and  that  he  will  bring  the  horse  he  is  to 
ride.  He  was  to  bring  the  White  Horse,  and  no  doubt  he  has 
got  him.     He  went  for  him,"  Jack  replied. 

"My  own  thought.  Master  Jack.  What  else  could  the 
American  intend  when  he  said  he  should  bet  against  the 
Duke  ?     Say  nothing  of  this." 

"O,  not  a  word.  Sir  Jerry.  But  if  The  Bagman  keeps  on 
going  well,  and  if  Tom  and  his  horse  should  not  come  to  time 
I  think,  please,  Sir  Jerry,  you  had  better  get  Lord  Doomsday 
to  ride." 

"  Too  young  and  too  modest,  Young  Jack." 

"  Please,  Sir  Jerry,  he's  not  as  young  as  he  looks,  and  that 
is  the  case  with  me.  I  could  show  him  over  every  line  in  the 
vale,  and  whichever  the  gentlemen  choose,  he  would  know^  the 
rights  of  it.  I  think  they  will  choose  the  one  right  down  this 
side  of  Brill  Hill,  so  as  to  have  the  big  brook  and  Barker's 
bullfinch  towards  the  finish." 

"  I  think  it  very  likely,  Master  Jack.     Gk)od-by.     I  may  be 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  355 

at  Hawk'ell  to-morrow,  perhaps.  If  not,  I  shall  be  on  the 
third  day,  unless  I  see  "our  father  at  the  meet  on  the  day  after 
to-morrow." 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

"  0,  tell  me  how  Love  cometh — 
Like  dew  from  Heaven  sent. 
And  tell  me  how  Love  goeth — 
That  was  not  Love  which  went." 

AT  the  rising  of  the  moon,  as  May  Bullfinch  and  her 
brother  rode  home,  there  was  a  change  of  the  wind  and 
of  the  weather.  The  breeze  veered  six  or  eight  points  at  the 
going  down  of  the  sun,  and  riding  on  the  sharp  loreath  of  the 
north  came  a  frost  which  seemed  rapidly  to  convert  the  mud 
into  a  thick  crust,  and  to  cover  the  pools  with  a  thin  skin  of 
ice.  John  Bullfinch  had  reached  home,  after  the  capital  run 
with  the  hounds,  long  before  his  children  arrived.  As  he  wel- 
comed his  daughter,  he  saw  that  she  was  excited  and  some- 
what agitated.  After  supper,  Moleskin  called  in,  and  gave 
an  account  of  the  sailors,  whose  release  he  now  seemed  to  re- 
gret. John,  however,  maintained  that  he  had  done  quite 
right.  The  keeper  denied  it,  but  declared  that  he  derived 
great  consolation  from  the  belief  that  one  or  both  of  them 
would  be  wounded  by  a  spring-gun  or  caught  in  a  man-trap 
before  many  days.  Upon  this  a  debate  arose.  The  worthies 
contradicted  each  other,  got  heated,  and  each  declared  that 
the  other  was  the  most  unreasonable  man  in  the  neighborhood. 
To  this  the  keeper  added  that,  concerning  John  Bullfinch,  it 
was  no  wonder,  for  nobody  ever  heard  of  a  Bullfinch  who 
would  not  fly  into  a  passion  when  confronted  and  confounded 
by  cool  argument.  They  then  got  sulky  over  their  pipes,  and 
looked  at  each  other  for  some  time  more  like  bulldogs  than 
two  middle-aged  men  who  had  a  strong  regard  for  each  other. 
Gradually  May  Bullfinch  and  Jack  unfolded  to  them  all  they 
had  to  tell  concerning  Cox  and  Cooper,  Miriam  Cotswold  and 
the  man  believed  to  be  Sassafras.  The  farmer  was  sorely  per- 
plexed. "  It  beats  me  clean,"  said  he.  "  I  can't  make  it  out. 
If  Tom  Scarlet  is  alive  and  well,  as  Southdown  maintains  to 


356  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

be  beyond  argument,  and  as  Sir  Jerry  himself  holds  to  be 
nearly  certain,  -svhy  don't  he  come  home  and  show  himself?  It 
appears  that  other  people  have  lately  come  from  America. 
Here's  this  sailor  chap  and  the  man-of-war's-man — here's 
Miriam  Cots  wold ;  here's  this  man  that  killed  Jagger,  and 
makes  no  bones  of  telling  of  it.  They  have  come — why  hasn't 
Tom  Scarlet  come  ?" 

"  The  sailor  told  Lady  Snaffle  that  contrary  winds  had  no 
doubt  prevented,"  replied  Young  Jack. 

"  Contrary  winds  didn't  prevent  him,  it  seems,"  said  John, 
with  his  eyes  fixed  ruefully  upon  his  daughter's  face,  and  a 
little  surliness  in  his  tone.  "  I  say  contrary  winds  is  no  an- 
swer. I  want  to  know  why  Tom  Scarlet  doesn't  come,  if  he 
can  come?     He  has  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of,  has  he?" 

"  No,"  said  Young  Jack,  boldly ;  "  Nothing  at  all." 

"  Hera  !"  replied  the  keeper.  "  Nothing  as  I  know  of,  ex- 
cept that  if  he  could  come,  he  has  stayed  away  such  a  long 
time  that  he  feels  himself  to  be  in  the  wrong  as  regards — as 
regards  your  daughter.  May,  and  hangs  fire  like." 

"  I  should  think  he's  no  such  faint-hearted  fool  as  that," 
said  John  Bullfinch.  "  But  now,  Dick,  as  you  are  cool  again, 
and  are  a  long-headed  sort  of  man,  and  well  up  to  some  things 
when  your  prejudices  are  not  involved,  give  me  your  opinion 
of  the  sailors,  the  gypsy,  and  the  man  from  America,  and 
what  they  say." 

"  I  will,"  said  Moleskin.  "  In  the  first  place,  the  sailors  are 
poachers ;  and  I  have  no  faith  in  anything  said  or  done  by  a 
poacher.  It's  true  I  let  them  go,  more  fool  I.  But  it  was  at 
the  request  of  Lady  Snaffle,  and  her  ladyship's  wishes  are  a 
sort  of  law  to  me,  in  anything  reasonable.  What  the  sailors 
said  is  to  be  looked  upon  as  gammon — nothing  but  gammon !" 

"  Cox  produced  the  totem.     May  has  it,"  said  Young  Jack. 

"  Well,  as  far  as  the  totem  goes,  we'll  admit  what  he  says ; 
though,  as  he's  a  poacher,  and  a  bad  character  in  general,  as 
all  poachers  are — he  kicked  up  a  row  at  the  races,  when  here 
in  the  spring,  and  punched  Parkins  in  the  head^I  might  de- 
cline to  admit  so  much.  But  that  admitted,  what  does  it 
amount  to  ?  Nothing  at  all.  He  has  not  seen  Tom  Scarlet 
for  nearly  a  year,  nor  anybody  who  has  seen  him.  Then 
there's  the  gypsy !     We  know  what  gypsies  are.     Miriam, 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  857 

Miss  May  is  going  to  say,  is  different  from  tne  common  run. 
There  is  a  difference,  for  she's  bolder  and  more  artful  than 
others  of  the  band.  Think  of  her  setting  off  to  America  all 
alone — if  she  was  alone — and  staying  there  alone  for  a  year !" 
May  Bullfinch  hid  her  face  in  her  handkerchief.  Moleskin 
saw  it,  but  went  on  like  a  surgeon  who,  with  a  knife  in  hand, 
cuts  away,  caring  nothing  for  the  quivering  of  the  nerves  or 
the  flinching  of  the  muscles.  "  Therefore,"  said  he,  "we  must 
look  at  her  as  just  as  any  other  gypsy,  but  more  dangerous 
and  deceitful  than  common.  You  can't  hatch  a  pheasant  out 
of  a  crow's  Qgg^  no  matter  where  you  set  it.  So  what  she 
says  is  of  no  more  use  than  a  flash  in  the  pan.  Not  so  much, 
for  it  is  to  be  taken  contrary  ways.  And  I'm  very  glad  she 
didn't  say  more.  If  she  had  said  plump  that  Tom  Scarlet 
was  vvell  and  would  be  here  to-night,  and  had  offered  to  swear 
to  it,  I  should  have  considered  it  good  proof  that  he  was  as 
dead  as  a  red  herring." 

"  Go  on  to  the  other  fellow — the  man  from  America,"  said 
John,  gruflly. 

"  The  other  fellow,"  said  Moleskin,  "  is,  by  his  own  showing, 
a  dangerous  and  suspicious  character,  a  sort  of  wild  beast  in  a 
neighborhood  like  this." 

"  No,  no  !  a  civil  man !  a  well-spoken  man !"  said  Young 
Jack. 

"A  man  who  has  killed  other  men  and  brags  about  it,"  re- 
turned Moleskin.  "  Who  has  been  shot  four  or  five  times,  and 
isn't  dead  yet,  which  is  of  itself  enough  to  set  peaceable  people 
on  their  guard  against  him.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  he's  had 
nothing  to  do  with  Tom  Scarlet,  for  if  he  has,  it's  ten  to  one 
that  the  young  man  is  dead  as  a  door  nail,  and  this  man  and 
the  gypsy  have  come  over  here  to  try  and  get  hold  of  his  pro- 
perty. Didn't  you  say  the  gypsy  told  you  that  you  would 
meet  him  ?  and  didn't  you  say  that  he  asked  the  wav  to  the 
Grange?" 

"I  did,"  replied  Young  Jack,  "but  what  of  that?  Why, 
if  he  was,  as  I  hope  and  believe,  Tom  Scarlet's  true  friend  in 
America,  and  is  his  friend  and  our  friend  now,  he  would  ask 
that." 

The  keeper  was  about  to  reply,  when  John  Bullfinch  inter- 
posed. 


358  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

"  Dick,"  said  he,  "  Jack  is  right  in  that  remark.  May,  my 
dear,  the  argument  we  have  heard  from  Moleskin  seemed  strong, 
very  strong,  for  a  time.  But  it  reminds  me  of  one  made  to 
him  and  me  by  Parkins,  when  Tom  Scarlet  first  went  away, 
which  proved  that  Tom  was  murdered  then,  and  that  Gypsy 
Jack  had  done  it." 

"  What  the  man  says  himself  doesn't  seem  to  give  ground 
for  any  reasonable  expectation  that  Tom  Scarlet  will  ever  be 
seen  here  again,"  said  the  keeper.  "  I'm  sorry,  very  sorry  to 
give  Miss  May  pain ;  but  the  sooner  she  ceases  to  remember 
him  the  better.  Not  but  what  she  may  have  a  kind  of  hope, 
just  as  you  and  I  hope  that  our  cock  will  win  his  battle,  when 
everybody  else  about  the  pit  is  ready  to  pound  him.  There 
may  be  hope,  but  I  can't  see  that  there  is  any  grounds  for  rea- 
sonable expectation." 

The  keeper  soon  after  left  them,  and  the  farmer  and  his 
children  sat  silent  until  the  clock  struck  ten.  May  Bullfinch 
then  kissed  her  father  and  went  up-stairs  with  her  brother, 
while  John  removed  into  the  kitchen  and  established  himself 
in  the  chimney-corner.  The  boy  did  and  said  all  he  could  to 
reassure  his  sister,  and  insisted  much  upon  the  look  and  man- 
ner of  Sassafras.  They  knelt  together  and  said  their  prayers. 
Never  since  the  time  of  her  early  infancy,  when  her  mother 
used  to  put  her  little  hands  together,  before  she  could  talk, 
and  repeat  the  Lord's  prayer,  had  May  prayed  more  fervently, 
or  with  a  more  serene  confidence  in  the  wisdom  and  mercy  of 
God,  than  on  that  night.  She  bade  her  brother  an  afiectionate 
good-night,  and  prepared  to  undress.  Then  she  drew  aside  the 
curtain  at  one  of  her  windows  and  looked  out.  It  faced  towards 
the  south.  Beneath  it  was  the  paved  court-yard,  then  the 
garden :  to  the  left  the  orchard,  and  in  front  of  all  the  meadow 
called  the  Lea,  which  extended  down  to  the  blackthorn  brake 
surrounding  the  Hawk's  Well,  from  which  the  ancient  house 
and  farm  derived  its  name.  The  moon,  now  high  in  the  hea- 
vens and  nearly  at  her  full,  shone  brightly  down  upon  the 
brake,  and  there  for  an  instant  the  maiden  saw  the  figure  of  a 
man  in  the  tall  bushes,  whose  face  in  the  moonlight  was  pale. 
She  started  back,  like  one  who  had  been  struck.  In  a  mo- 
ment, however,  she  collected  herself,  and  looked  out  again. 
No  form  was  there.     But  at  that  instant  a  drift  of  clouds  was 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  359 

passing  over  the  moon.  She  waited  until  it  was  gone,  but  even 
tlien  she  could  see  nothing  save  the  dark  outline  of  the  bushes 
which  formed  the  brake.  It  was  the  place  where  she  and  Tom 
Scarlet  had  often  walked  in  the  gloaming,  and  a  strange  feeling, 
neither  fear  nor  dread,  but  akin  to  both,  shot  through  her. 
She  reasoned  that  the  appearance  resulted  from  her  over-tried 
and  agitated  imagination,  and  falling  on  her  knees  she  prayed 
again  with  fervor. 

Meantime,  the  mastiff.  Fury,  which  had  been  sleeping  before 
the  fire  when  John  Bullfinch  seated  himself  in  the  chimney- 
corner,  arose  and  paced  the  room  like  a  tiger  in  a  cage.  Once 
or  twice  she  came  to  the  farmer,  and  laying  her  great  dark 
muzzle  on  his  knee,  gave  a  sort  of  moan.  She  grew  so  uneasy 
and  went  so  often  to  the  door,  that  John  Bullfinch  rose  and  let 
her  out.  Instead  of  barking,  as  was  her  wont,  she  turned  and 
looked  him  in  the  face,  until  he  closed  the  door  upon  her. 
Then  with  noiseless  steps  and  long  strides,  she  took  her  way  to 
the  brake  by  the  well,  and  there  paced  round  and  round  a 
muffled  man,  who  stood  among  the  bushes  with  his  eyes 
steadily  fixed  upon  the  light  at  the  window  of  May  Bullfinch. 
A  quarter  of  an  hour  passed,  during  which  the  man  still 
watched  the  light,  seemingly  hoping  or  fearing  that  the  maiden 
would  come  to  the  window  again,  when  the  mastiff"  stopped  in 
her  walk,  and  with  fire  in  her  red  eye,  gave  a  low  deep  growl. 

"  Quiet,  Fury  !  a  friend  !"  said  the  man,  as  the  rustle  of  the 
bushes  gave  note  that  another  was  approaching. 

"Against  orders!"  said  the  new^  comer.  "Quiet  that  big 
dog.  She's  twice  as  big  as  a  Spanish  bloodhound,  and  looks 
four  or  five  times  as  fierce.  You  were  to  wait  for  me  at  the 
Grange." 

"  I  know  that,  but  I  couldn't  do  so.  Sassafras.  So  near  her, 
after  such  a  long  absence.  Such  doubt  and  fear  as  there's  been 
about  me,  and  such  faith  and  trust  as  she  has  shown — I 
could  wait  no  longer.  I  couldn't  stay  away  from  her  another 
minute.  Look  here !  this  is  from  my  picture,  taken  when  I 
was  a  boy.  She  put  it  there  with  her  own  hands  on  Christmas 
eve." 

"  Ay,  ay !  a  good  girl !"  said  Sassafras,  taking  a  sprig  of 
holly,  and  holding  it  in  the  moonlight.  "  If  you  remember,  I 
always  said  she  was  a  good  girl,  when  you  talked  of  her  at 


360  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

our  camps,  and  so  did  Francois.  But  as  you  are  here,  why  not 
go  to  the  house,  and  let  the  jolly  old  farmer  bring  his  daugh- 
ter down  to  welcome  her  wandering  lover  ?" 

"  Ay,  why  not !"  replied  Tom  Scarlet.  "  I  see  by  the  light 
below  that  John  Bullfinch  is  in  the  kitchen,  no  doubt  smoking 
his  pipe  in  the  chimney-corner.  Fury  found  out  somehow 
that  I  was  here,  for  I  heard  the  back  door  shut  just  before  she 
came,  which  must  be  half  an  hour  ago.  I've  been  watching 
that  light  at  her  window.     She  came  to  it  once." 

"  Watching  the  light !  Why  you're  as  silly  as  the  fellow 
who  sat  on  the  bank  all  day  waiting  for  the  river  to  run  by. 
Why  don't  you  go  to  the  house  and  watch  her?" 

"  The  truth  is.  Sassafras,  that  I  feel  timid — what  you  may 
call  shy,  and  afraid  to  present  myself  before  her,  having  been 
away  so  long.     I  ought  to  have  come  when  we  first  landed." 

"  You  ought  not  to  have  come  now,  I  think,"  said  Sassafras. 
"A  man  of  your  pluck — a  young  fellow  like  you!  after  the 
adventures  you've  gone  through,  been  at  death's  door,  and 
three  parts  of  the  way  in,  to  be  afraid  of  a  young  girl  who 
loves  you,  is  the  greatest  nonsense  I  ever  heard  of." 

"  I  knew  you  would  say  so ;  but  so  it  is !  It's  my  love  for 
her,  you  know." 

"  Love !     Ain't  I  in  love  ?     Look  at  me !     Am  I  afraid  ?" 

"  You're  not  in  love  with  her  f  said  Tom,  with  emphasis. 

"  Why,  no !  If  I  was  I  shouldn't  stand  chattering  here  in 
the  chill  moonlight  when  I  might  be  by  her  side  at  the  fire," 
replied  Sassafras.  "  If  this  is  to  be  the  effect  she'll  have  on 
you.  Sir  Jerry  must  get  another  rider,  for  you'll  break  your 
neck  in  the  steeple-chase  to  a  certainty,  after  a  few  hours  at 
her  apron  strings.  If  you've  got  a  flask  of  brandy  about  you, 
take  a  good  swig  and  settle  your  thoughts." 

"  I  have  none.  I  need  none  ;  and  after  our  meeting  is  once 
over,  I  shall  be  as  bold  as  a  lion  and  as  cool  as  a  cucumber 
for  the  steeple-chase.     With  her  eye  on  me,  I  can't  lose  it." 

"  Well,  that's  more  like  the  Tom  Scarlet  I  have  known. 
This  little  rascal  love  plays  the  traitor  though,  to  some  bold 
hearts,  and  courage  goes  out  as  he  enters  in.  I  suppose  I 
must  go  to  honest  John  myself.  It's  lucky  I  met  his  son — a 
likely  lad — since  I  left  you.  Keep  that  dog  back,  and  keep 
her  quiet.     When  I  whistle  come  to  the  door." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  361 

John  Bullfinch  was  still  seated  in  the  chimney-corner,  and 
not  in  a  cheerful  frame  of  mind,  when  there  was  a  guarded 
knock  at  the  door.  The  farmer  wondered  that  there  was  no 
alarm  from  Fury  ;  but  he  was  insensible  to  fear,  and  thought 
it  might  be  one  of  his  men,  come  there  for  some  reason.  He 
opened  the  door,  and  there  stood  Sassafras,  in  his  pilot  coat 
and  glazed  hat.  At  first  appearance  the  face  of  Sassafras  was 
not  one  to  strike  an  Englishman  of  the  rnral  parts  favorably. 
The  strong,  bony  features,  the  deep-set,  bright  eye,  and  the 
matted,  black  hair  were  such  as  were  seldom  seen  in  the  Mid- 
land Vale. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?"  said  the  farmer. 

"Your  pardon  for  what  seems  an  unwarrantable  intrusion 
at  this  hour,"  replied  Sassafras.  "After  that  a  few  words 
with  you,  and  a  word  or  two  with  your  son,  Master  Bullfinch, 
who  has  a  sort  of  a  promise  from  me." 

"  And  who  may  you  be  ?"  said  John  Bullfinch. 

"  I'm  the  man  he  met  to-day.  I  suppose  he  mentioned  the 
man  from  America  ?" 

"  The  man  from  America  !"  said  John  Bullfinch,  with  an 
air  of  surprise  and  abstraction.  "  Yes,  he  mentioned  that 
man." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Bullfinch,  I  am  the  man  in  question — Sassafras, 
the  friend  of  Tom  Scarlet." 

"  You  are  quite  sure  of  that  last,  eh  ?" 

"  I  am,"  said  Sassafras,  returning  the  farmer's  steady  look. 

"  Come  in,"  said  John  ;  "  I  fully  believe  you.  I'll  call  my 
son  down  without  disturbing  his  sister." 

"  Wait  a  bit,  Mr.  Bullfinch,"  said  Sassafras,  as  they  entered 
together.  "  There's  another  man  from  America  outside,  and 
he's  more  bashful  than  I  am,  so  I  came  first." 

"  You  mean  Tom  ?  God  bless  my  soul  and  heart  alive ! 
He  isn't  dead,  and  he's  come  at  last,"  cried  John  Bullfinch. 
"  I've  said  so  all  along.  I  told  'em  so !  I  said  to  Moleskin 
this  very  night — says  I,  '  Tom  is  all  right,  and  the  man  from 
America  is  his  friend.'     Sassafras,  bring  Tom  in !" 

"  Gently,  sir  ;  speak  lower.  Miss  May  Bullfinch  had  better 
not  be  alarmed  of  a  sudden." 

"You're  right!  It's  well  be-thought  of.  My  daater  has 
been  anxious  and  disturbed,  in  a  sort  of  pale  and  pining  way. 
AVe  must  have  a  care  for  her." 


3G2  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"It  will  be  easily  managed,"  said  Sassafras.  "You  call 
Master  Bullfiuch  down-stairs  handsomely — that  is,  with  no 
more  stir  than  needful,  and  I'll  have  Tom  here  in  no  time. 
Then  your  son  shall  go  up  and  call  his  sister  to  hear  what  his 
acquaintance,  the  man  from  America,  has  got  to  say.  She  will 
see,  by  the  boy's  face  and  manner,  that  the  man  from  America 
has  good  news.  At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  you  take  her  in  your 
arms  with  a  fond  embrace,  and  carry  her  into  the  sitting-room. 
She'll  know  then  who's  here,  and  Tom  may  go  in  and  tell  her 
the  rest,  while  I  explain  matters  to  you  by  the  chimney- 
corner." 

"  It's  jest  the  thing  !"  said  the  farmer,  in  a  husky  voice. 

He  stole  softly  up-stairs,  wdiile  Sassafras  went  to  the  door 
and  gave  a  low  whistle.  Before  Tom  Scarlet  was  there  the 
farmer  had  returned.  When  the  young  man  came  he  shook 
him  warmly  by  the  hand,  without  a  word,  and  then  drew  him 
into  the  room. 

"  Tom,  my  boy,  I'm  glad  to  see  thee  back.  We  thought  at 
times  you  would  never  come.  But  it  was  contrary  winds,  no 
doubt.     When  did  you  land  ?" 

"  Nearly  a  month  ago,"  replied  Tom,  rather  sheepishly. 

"A  month  ago?    And  not  come  here  till  now !    Why  not?" 

"  The  truth  is,  sir,  that  Sassafras  w^ould'nt  let  me,  and  I'm 
ashamed  of  it.  Still,  I've  got  the  horse  in  the  way  of  good 
condition  by  staying  down  there  in  Cheshire." 

"  Ah,  the  horse.  Is  he  a  good  horse,  Tom  ?  As  good  as  The 
Bagman?" 

"  Better,  sir.  At  least  two  stone  better  over  a  real  stiff 
country.     Barring  accidents.  Sir  Jerry  will  win." 

The  entrance  of  the  farmer's  son  cut  short  further  observa- 
tions on  that  head,  especially  as  Sassafras  stood  forward  and 
said  : 

"  Hullo,  young  Bullfinch.  Here  we  are  again.  Young  Jack ! 
And  you  see  I've  brought  the  man  who  was  shot  in  the  head 
and  went  down  the  rapids  of  the  Neosho." 

Young  Jack  flew  to  Tom  Scarlet,  saying : 

"Oh,  Tom,  what  a  joyful  thing  this  is.  You're  back! 
Now  they'll  believe  what  I  say.  I  told  'em  so  all  along !  I 
told  Lady  Snaffle  and  May  this  evening,  and  I  told  May  to- 
night, the  very  last  thing  I  said,  and  after  w^e  had  kissed  each 
other  at  the  chamber  door,  that  it  was  all  right." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  863 

"  You  are  the  boy  for  me  !"  said  Sassafras.  "  Now  you  go 
to  your  sister's  room,  aud  ^Yake  her  up  handsomely — gently, 
you  know.  Don't  rush  in  like  a  bull  at  a  gate,  but  hand- 
somely ;  and  say  as  quietly  as  you  can,  that  the  man  from 
America  is  down  here  and  wants  to  see  her.  You  may  men- 
tion that  he's  rough  and  ready,  but  as  true  as  steel." 

"  I  have  already  told  her  that  a  score  of  times,  since  Miriam 
said  it,"  replied  Young  Jack. 

"  Go,  my  son,  and  be  gentle.  I'll  meet  you  and  May  at  the 
stair  foot,"  said  John  Bullfinch. 

The  lad  and  his  sister  were  heard  on  the  stairs  sooner  than 
they  expected,  for  May  Bullfinch  had  not  undressed.  She 
had  heard  her  father  talking  to  Sassafras,  though  unable  to 
distinguish  what  he  said.  Heard  him  call  her  brother  up,  and 
heard  the  latter  go  down-stairs.  Fond  kisses  as  he  carried  her 
into  the  sitting-room,  and  many  affectionate  little  pats  on  the 
back  when  she  was  seated,  together  with  the  joy  she  saw  in 
his  blufi*  face  and  blue  eyes,  told  her  all.  He  said  nothing 
but  this,  "  May,  my  dear,  he's  outside,  and  all  of  a  flutter. 
Afraid,  the  man  from  America  says — afraid  of  you.  I'll  go 
and  send  him  in  here." 

After  Tom  Scarlet  had  gone  to  May,  her  father  sat  on  one 
side  of  the  fire  and  his  son  on  the  other,  and  both  had  their 
eyes  on  Sassafras,  who  was  in  front  of  it. 

"  I  said  I  should  explain,"  he  began.  "  He  was  a  long  time 
away,  and  thought  to  be  dead.  He  was  as  near  death  as  any 
man  may  be  and  pull  through.  Shot  in  the  head,  but  by  a 
glancing  ball,  he  went  down  the  rapids.  If  ten  thousand  men 
went  into  them  wounded  as  he  was,  I  don't  believe  there  would 
be  another  saved.  The  river,  however,  was  high,  and  an  eddy 
carried  him  on  to  a  shelving  rock,  where  he  lay  insensible. 
It  was  even  then  falling.  The  streams  out  there  rise  and  fall 
very  rapidly.  His  senses  came  back  to  him,  but  he  was  un- 
able to  get  up  the  steep,  rocky  bluff".  Keeps  and  Kirby  found 
him  there  the  next  day ;  and  Keeps,  a  handy  fellow,  but  no 
better  in  other  ways  than  he  should  be,  rigged  a  purchase  and 
got  him  up  the  bluff:  They  fed  him  and  nursed  him,  and 
sheltered  him  as  well  as  they  could,  all  through  the  storm  of 
the  next  night,  which  was  one  of  the  hardest  that  ever  raged 
there." 

"  It  was  well  done  of  them,"  said  John  Bullfinch. 


364  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  Ay,  it  was  !  But  he  was  their  salvation.  Their  lives  hung 
upon  his  and  they  knew  it.  On  the  morning  after  the  storm, 
I  started  Cinnamon  and  a  band  of  his  Indians  on  their  trail, 
while  I  went  to  look  u]  the  man  who  had  planned  the  raid 
upon  us,  and  who  as  he  believed,  had  killed  Tom  Scarlet. 
The  chief  was  painted  for  war,  and  it  was  a  hundred  to  one 
that  the  hair  would  not  be  on  the  heads  of  Keeps  and  Kirby 
forty-eight  hours  longer.  Miriam  Cotswold,  however,  insisted 
that  I  should  send  Franyois  with  the  Indians  to  look  for  Tom's 
remains,  and  went  herself.  It  was  well,  for  she  recognised  Tom 
just  as  the  Indians  had  got  the  other  party  corralled,  and  had 
loosed  their  knives  and  tomahawks  for  a  spring." 

"  Bless  my  soul !"  said  John  Bullfinch,  while  his  son  sat  star- 
ing upon  the  narrator. 

*'  Cinnamon  was  naturally  disappointed,  for  he  meant  busi- 
ness, and  when  the  Cheyennes  mean  business  they  go  for 
blood ;  but  he  had  taken  a  great  liking  to  Tom  Scarlet,  and 
at  his  earnest  entreaty,  he  let  Keeps  and  Kirby  slide.  We 
travelled  to  my  plantation  at  St.  Jo.,  and  after  the  necessary 
prepr.rations  came  here.  We  have  brought  the  White  Horse, 
and  the  White  Horse  and  I  prevented  Tom  from  coming  to 
see  you  right  away." 

"  The  White  Horse !"  said  John  Bullfinch. 

"  Ay,  the  White  Horse.  He  had  to  be  trained,  you  know, 
for  this  great  match  between  the  Duke  of  Jumpover  and  Sir 
Jerry.  We  have  kept  him  at  strong  work  near  Chester,  and 
in  about  a  week  you  and  Sir  Jerry  must  come  down  quietly, 
and  see  a  little  trial." 

<'  The  White  Horse !"  said  John.  "  So  this  horse  he's  brought 
that  can  beat  the  Bagman  two  stone,  is  the  White  Horse. 
Sassafras,  I  have  my  doubts  about  him.  He's  an  unlucky 
horse,  and  I  have  my  doubts." 

"  Sir,  you'll  have  none  when  you  see  him  take  off  at  a  rasp- 
ing fence  with  Tom  upon  his  back." 

"Maybe  so.  Sassafras.  But  is  he  a  water-jumper?  You 
see,  my  experience  is,  that  many  a  good  fencer  is  not  good  at 
water.  I  mean  big  natural  watercourses.  There  will  be  an 
ugly  brook  in  this  business,  twenty-five  feet  at  least,  and  the 
Duke's  horse  is  a  real  good  water-jumper,  as  good  almost  as 
Cowslip." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  365 

"  Fire  or  water,  this  horse  will  face  anything,"  said  Sassafras, 
"  and  so  will  his  rider  when  Tom  is  in  the  saddle." 

"  Say  you  so  ?"  said  John.     "  What's  his  breeding  ?" 

"  Well,  sir,  the  full  pedigree  I  cannot  give,  but  he  is  quite 
thoroughbred.     He  was  got  by  StumjDs." 

"  Hold  on  !"  said  John,  "  you  begin  well.  The  Whalebone 
blood,  to  begin  with  as  a  foundation,  cannot  be  excelled. 
From  Whalebone's  son  (Stumps)  comes  the  color." 

"  His  dam  was  by  Master  Henry." 

"  Why,  good  again  !"  cried  John.  "  It  couldn't  be  better. 
There  you  bring  in  Old  Orville,  a  horse  of  ten  thousand." 

"  Grandam  by  Tramp,"  said  Sassafras  sententiously. 

"  Why,  better  yet !  This'll  suit  John  Gully,  Isaac  Sadler, 
and  Ransome  exactly.  Why,  Tramp  got  the  Little  Red  Rover 
and  Dangerous  ;  and  he  was  grandsire  of  Glencoe,  with  whom 
Lord  Jersey  challenged  for  The  Whip  at  Kew  Market,  last 
year.     Sassafras,  you  must  see  Ransome." 

Sassafras  laughed,  and  said,  "  Well,  sir,  to  tell  you  the  truth, 
I  have  seen  him.  We  sent  a  special  request  to  him  to  come 
down  and  look  at  the  horse  a  week  ago,  and  there  he  is  now, 
taking  care  of  him  while  we  run  up  here." 

"  Oh,  father,  what  a  beautiful  plant !"  said  Young  Jack. 

"  Why,  so  it  is.  But,  Sassafras,  Ransome  is  no  trainer. 
Now,  if  you  had  sent  to  me,  I  could  have  got  Will  Chifney 
and  John  Day  to  go  down." 

"  Yes,  and  half  England  would  have  known  it.  Mr.  Ran- 
some don't  attract  the  public  eye.  Why,  the  people  in  the 
coaches  on  his  journey  down  took  him  for  a  banker.  Besides, 
Tom  says  that  he  is  the  best  judge  in  England  of  a  horse  for 
cross-country  work,  and  of  his  proper  condition." 

"  Sassafras,  I  believe  he  is,  except  Tom  himself.  Tom  is  an 
extraordinary  young  man.  Still,  he  ought  to  have  let  us 
known  that  he  was  well  and  at  hand." 

"  I'll  explain  that,"  said  Sassafras.  "  A  letter  was  sent  to 
you  from  St.  Jo.  by  him,  the  direction  by  another  hand.  That 
letter  was  lost  at  sea,  there  is  every  reason  to  believe ;  and 
when  he  learned  through  Miriam  that  you  had  heard  nothing 
of  him,  and  that  Miss  Bullfinch  was  unwell,  I  could  hold  him 
in  no  longer.  He  has  been  going  to  bolt  the  track  above  twice 
a  week  ever  since  we  lauded,  and  when  he  found  that  his  letter 


366  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

had  never  reached  England,  come  here  he  would.  We  must 
go  again  by  the  mail  coach  just  before  day,  leaving  you  to 
explain  to  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle." 

"  I'll  ride  over  and  do  so,"  said  John.  "  You  mentioned 
Miriam  Cotswold.  It  is  almost  a  pity  that  she  has  come  back 
to  these  parts.     A  gypsy  camp  is  a  queer  place." 

"  Farmer  Bullfinch,"  said  Sassafras,  "  she  is  not  going  to 
stay  back.  After  Tom's  affairs  are  settled  she  will  return  to 
America  with  me.  I'm  going  to  marry  her.  She  will  suit 
me  and  suit  my  plantation  as  its  mistress.  She  can  put  up 
with  my  way  of  life  better  than  any  other  woman  in  the 
world.  A  little  while  in  the  gypsy  camp  here  won't  hurt  her. 
Miriam  can  take  care  of  herself  anywhere.  She  was  in  an 
Indian  camp  when  I  first  saw  her." 

"  You  will  be  married  here,  of  course." 

"  No,  sir  ;  in  King  George  county,  Virginia,  where  I  was 
born,  there  is  a  little  church,  and  in  the  graveyard  round  that 
little  church  my  forefathers  are  buried.  Miriam  and  I  have 
settled  it  that  we'll  be  married  in  that  little  church.  In  fact, 
she  insists  that  it  shall  be  there." 

"  Give  me  your  hand  again,  sir,"  said  John  Bullfinch.  "  I 
shall  see  about  a  wedding  gift  for  Miriam.  My  daater  May 
will  help  me  to  see  about  it.  Her  mother,  who  is  dead  and 
gone,  used  to  have  Miriam  here  when  she  was  a  child.  Sas- 
safras, you're  the  right  sort  of  man.  And  if  you  did  kill 
Jagger,  it's  a  matter  for  your  own  conscience  as  to  whether 
there  was  justifiable  cause." 

"  In  regard  to  that  there  was,"  said  Sassafras.  "  I  could 
kill  three  or  four  more  like  him,  in  the  same  circumstances, 
without  the  least  compunction.  The  man  was  a  villain — a 
thief  and  a  coward,  and  a  murderer  at  heart !  We'll  say  no 
more  about  him.  As  to  the  match,  you  come  down  with  Sir 
Jerry  and  see  the  horse.  Meantime,  we  will  keep  our  own 
counsel,  and  come  upon  the  Duke's  party  next  month  like  a 
thunder-clap  in  the  night." 

"So  it  shall  be.  Jack,  you  nu:;tn't  split,"  said  John, 
seriously. 

"  Me  split !  Never  fear  me !  But  I  must  ride  over  with 
Mav  when  she  goes  to  tell  all  this  to  Lady  Snaffle,  so  that  I 
may  caution  her  ladyship,"  replied  Young  Jack. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  367 

"  It  may  be  as  well.  "\Ye  will  all  three  go  to-morrow  after 
iiniier.  And  I  say,  Jack,  you  needn't  mention  to  her  lady- 
ship what  Sassafras  said  about  killing  four  or  five  more  such 
as  Jagger,  nor  about  the  disappointment  of  the  Indian  because 
he  couldn't  go  for  blood.  Ladies,  you  see,"  he  added  to  Sas- 
safras, "are  apt  to  be  prejudiced  in  such  matters;  and  the 
Indian  has  sent  over  a  message  and  a  token,  claiming  Tom  as 
a  sort  of  enlisted  man,  or  what  not." 

"  The  totem  of  the  tribe  has  come,  then  !  I'm  glad  of  that. 
Tom  is  now  one  of  the  Cheyeunes !" 

"  Sassafras,"  said  Young  Jack,  "  don't  you  tell  that  to  our 
May.  She  won't  like  it  to  be  said  about  here  that  Tom  is  an 
Indian." 

"  I  see !  Young  ladies  may  be  prejudiced  on  that  point," 
replied  Sassafras.  "  But  it's  much  the  same  as  when  your 
king  has  a  man  kneel  down,  and  with  a  touch  of  a  sword 
makes  him  rise  up  '  right  honorable.'  I'm  a  Cheyenne  myself 
in  the  way  that  Tom  is.  I  earned  the  distinction  on  the  war- 
path against  the  Sioux,  in  the  Eocky  Mountains.  Some  day, 
Young  Jack,  I'll  tell  you  about  the  battle  we  fought  in  Hell 
Gate  Pass,  when  the  Blackfeet  had  nearly  come  in  third  hand, 
and  put  us  all  to  the  axe  and  scalping-knife.  I  can  tell  you 
some  beautiful  things  about  Cinnamon,  for,  as  a  warrior  and 
hunter,  there's  not  his  equal  among  the  tribes." 

While  the  roving  hunter  of  the  West  was  interesting  John 
Bullfinch  and  his  son,  there  was  sweet  communing  and  some 
tears  between  May  and  Tom  Scarlet  in  the  other  room.  They 
sat  side  by  side  and  hand  in  hand,  and  Fury  was  at  her  mis- 
tress' feet.  As  he  told  his  tale  she  looked  fondly  in  his  manly 
face.  When  he  added  that  he  must  leave  her  before  the  dawn 
of  day,  she  said : 

"  Oh,  Tom !  so  soon,  and  after  such  an  absence,  when  some 
thought  you  had  forgotten  all  about  us." 

"  'Tis  but  for  two  or  three  weeks,"  he  replied.  "  And  O, 
May,  my  life  and  love,  I  never  in  one  waking  hour  ceased  to 
think  of  you.  I  was  scarcely  at  Liverpool  when  your  image, 
always  in  my  mind,  had  liked  to  have  lured  me  back.  But  I 
said, '  If  I  go  back  bootless  what  a  fool  she'll  think  me.'  Then 
at  sea,  when  I  was  sick,  no  better  than  a  dead  man,  in  the  gale, 
and  the  brig  groaned  and  pitched  as  if  she  was  going  down 


368  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

head  first  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  the  thought  of  you  was  all 
I  had  to  set  against  much  misery.  In  the  West,  upon  the 
great  plains,  hundreds  of  miles  from  the  habitations  of  men, 
with  a  feeling  of  boundless  freedom,  in  boundless  space,  it  was 
happy  to  sit  with  Sassafras  by  the  camp-fire  at  night,  and,  while 
the  wolves  howled  in  the  dark  shadow  beyond  the  light,  to  talk 
of  you.  May.  And  when  I  lay,  torn  and  bruised,  on  the  rock 
in  the  rapids,  and  with  returning  consciousness,  that  seemed  to 
come  just  as  I  was  about  to  gasp  out  my  last,  your  form  came 
with  it,  like  a  soft  vision  in  my  sleep,  and  gave  me  heart  and 
strength.  Dear  May,  it  was  a  joy,  and  I  said,  '  I  shall  not 
perish  here  in  the  wilderness  to  be  the  prey  of  wolf  and  kite, 
for  my  love  lives  for  me  in  the  Vale  at  home,  and  I  will  live 
for  her." 

"  O,  Tom — poor  Tom !"  said  she,  with  her  face  on  his 
shoulder. 

"  So  May,  my  life  and  heart !  one  little  parting,  and  then  I 
return  for  good  and  all." 

"  And  then  you  will  roam  no  more  ?" 

"  No  more.  Here  is  my  home.  Here  is  my  love — better 
than  home  itself!  Home  would  be  nothing — less  than  the 
western  wilds  without  her,"  he  replied.  "  I  shall  never  wan- 
der more." 

"  Not  even  to  go  to  see  Sassafras,  Tom  ?" 

"  Ah,  May,  Sassafras,  the  best  and  most  unselfish  of  friends, 
will  come  sometimes  to  see  you  and  me,  and  bring  Miriam  with 
him.  He  is  a  born  I'over,  and  neither  of  them  seems  to  sutler 
from  the  sea." 

They  sat  and  talked  on.  Young  Jack  came  and  hinted  that 
a  little  of  Tom  Scarlet's  company  in  the  kitchen  would  be  de- 
sirable ;  his  father  came  and  asked  May  whether  she  had  not 
better  go  to  bed.  But  there  she  sat,  with  Fury's  great  head 
in  her  lap,  and  her  hand  in  Tom  Scarlet's,  until  Sassafras  came 
to  the  door  and  said,  "  Time's  up !" 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  369 


CHAPTER  XXXVIIL 

**  Say,  by  what  name  men  call  ye, 

What  city  is  your  home, 
That  in  such  guise  ye  come  to  rido 

Before  the  ranks  of  Rome? 
By  many  names  men  call  us, 

In  many  lands  we  dwell  ; 
Well  Samo  Thracia  knows  us, 

Cyrene  knows  us  well. 
Our  house  in  gay  Tarentum 

Is  hung  each  morn  with  flowers  J 
Over  the  masts  of  Syracuse 

Our  marble  portal  towers. 
But  by  the  proud  Eurotas 

Is  our  dear  native  home, 
And  for  the  right  we  come  to  fight 

Before  the  ranks  of  Rome." 

THE  Ides  of  March  had  come,  the  date  for  the  great  steeple- 
chase between  the  horses  to  be  named  at  the  post  by  the 
Duke  of  Jumpover  and  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle.  The  day  was  not 
unfavorable,  for  the  sky  was  tolerably  clear  overhead,  and  the 
brisk  March  breeze  had  dried  the  ground,  except  in  the  low 
places.  The  Vale  was  famous  for  its  grass  lands,  its  stiff  fences, 
and  its  wdde  and  deep  brooks.  Timber  fences — that  is  to  say, 
posts  and  rails — there  were  next  to  none  ;  but  the  "  bull- 
finches" and  ox-fences — mostly  double  thorn  hedges,  with 
ditches  on  each  side — were  heavy  and  thick.  The  line  chosen 
by  the  umpires  was  a  noted  one  for  the  stiff*  fences  which 
would  be  encountered  ;  and  there  was  one  brook  of  more  than 
ordinary  wddth  and  difficulty  when  the  stream  was  swollen,  as 
was  the  case  that  day.  The  distance  w^as  from  four  miles  and 
a  half  to  five  miles.  It  was  a  famous  line  of  country  in  the 
times  of  the  old,  straightaway  steeple-chase  courses,  which  are 
now  totally  fallen  into  disuse  and  superseded  by  roundabout 
courses,  mainly  devised  to  enable  the  spectators  to  see  the 
horses  all  the  way  from  a  stand.  These  partly  artificial  courses 
are  not  nearly  as  well  calculated  to  try  the  powers  of  the 
horses  and  to  test  their  capabilities  as  fencers,  as  the  old 
straight  lines  were,  and  a  different  class  of  horses  are  now 
entered.  Still,  the  danger  is  quite  as  great — perhaps  greater 
24 


370  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON, 

— for  the  pace  is  stronger,  and  a  tired  horse  will  sometimes 
fall  at  a  comparatively  small  fence.  This  course  was  not  quite 
straight.  The  horses  started  from  a  field  by  the  roadside,  and 
ran  for  over  half  a  mile  towards  the  southwest,  which  brought 
them  two  or  three  fields  from  the  road  ;  the  line  then  went  due 
west,  the  fences  being  very  heavy  for  over  two  miles.  Then  it 
turned  northwest  for  half  a  mile,  and  approached  the  road 
again  at  the  deepest  and  widest  part  of  the  brook  before  men- 
tioned, over  which  the  road  was  carried  by  a  stone  bridge. 

This  was  a  critical  part  of  the  race.  But  there  was  another 
very  critical  point  a  mile  further  on,  where,  within  a  field  of 
the  winning  flag,  there  was  a  great  leap  to  be  taken  over,  or 
rather  through  a  very  thick  double  fence,  with  its  ditches, 
called  Barker's  Bullfinch.  It  was  a  noted  place,  and  many  a 
good  horse  and  bold  rider  had  been  brought  to  grief  by  it,  as 
they  were  commonly  nearly  done  up  before  reaching  it  by 
their  previous  violent  and  long-continued  exertions.  The 
fences  over  this  line  of  course  were  numerous  as  well  as  heavy, 
for  the  fields  were  not  large.  But  there  was  this  advantage 
— it  was  nearly  all  grass  laud,  there  being  but  three  or  four 
ploughed  fields  in  all  the  line.  What  plough  there  was,  how- 
ever, was  heavy,  for  the  ground  was  the  fat,  loamy  clay  of 
the  Vale,  the  strong  land  which  will  grow  horse  beans,  and  not 
the  light  loam  in  which  barley  delights.  The  attendance  of 
spectators  was  very  great.  The  match  had  long  been  a  fruit- 
ful and  favorite  topic  with  the  gentlemen  of  the  hunts  pre- 
sided over  by  the  Duke  and  the  Baronet,  and  many  were  in 
attendance  from  the  Pytchley,  the  Heythrop,  and  the  Quorn 
hunts.  These  were  all  well-mounted  men,  but  they  could  not 
hope  to  keep  up  with  the  matched  horses  except  by  keeping 
mainly  to  the  grass  on  each  side  of  the  road,  and  thus  avoid- 
ing the  strongest  leaps  and  some  of  the  distance.  The  riders 
of  the  horses  engaged  were  not  allowed  to  go  over  a  hundred 
yards  along  tlie  road  at  any  one  time,  and  therefore  they  were 
never  in  it  at  all,  as  they  would  have  lost  ground  by  jumping 
into  it.  Besides  the  gentlemen  of  the  hunts,  there  were  many 
farmers  and  farmers'  sons,  well-mounted,  and  great  crowds  of 
foot  people.  The  latter  congregated  most  about  the  bridge 
and  at  Barker's  Bullfinch,  though  there  were  also  many  men 
and  boys  up  in  trees  all  along  the  line.     Those  at  the  bridge 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  371 

saw  with  a  sort  of  satisfaction  the  yellow,  turbid  current  rush- 
ing along  between  steep  banks,  partly  undermined  by  the  stream 
and  fringed  with  alder  bushes,  and  chuckled  to  themselves  as 
they  said,  "  They  must  be  good  'uns  to  clear  this  ;  one  or  both 
will  get  a  ducking."  While  those  who  surveyed  the  thick, 
leafless,  double  hedges  of  Barker's  Bullfinch,  composed  of 
whitethorn,  blackthorn,  crab-tree,  dwarf  maple,  and  a  great 
variety  of  briars,  were  equally  well  pleased  with  their  own  point 
of  vantage,  remarking,  "  A  steeple-chase  is  nothing  without 
falls,  and  my  opinion  is  that  both  on  'em  'ull  get  *  croppers' 
at  this  here  bullfinch."  All  the  line  was  down  the  Vale.  It 
was  not  by  any  means  a  flat  surface,  for  the  ground  was  undu- 
lating, and  upon  a  range  of  hill  to  the  southward  there  were 
many  spectators.  Upon  this  hill  stood  two  windmills,  and 
the  houses  of  the  millers.  All  the  windows  in  the  houses  and 
the  galleries  of  the  mills  were  occupied  by  the  wives  and 
daughters  of  the  neighboring  farmers,  and  they  had  a  good 
though  rather  distant  view  of  the  steeple-chase. 

The  hour  for  naming  the  horses  had  almost  come.  The 
stewards,  Sir  Harry  Plowden  and  Captain  Fane,  were  in  the 
field,  surrounded  by  many  men  on  horseback  and  some  on  foot. 
There  was  a  buzz  of  expectation  as  the  Duke  of  Jumpover 
came  up,  accompanied  by  a  number  of  his  select  friends, 
mostly  country  gentlemen  of  large  estates  and  pedigrees  much 
more  ancient  than  those  in  the  stud  book.  The  Duke  was  a 
handsome  man,  with  frank  expression.  With  him  came  two 
very  fine,  weight-carrying  hunters,  prepared  for  the  race.  He 
had  not  declared  which  he  would  name,  but  the  attention  of 
the  trainer  and  the  glances  of  his  chosen  rider,  a  gentleman  of 
name  and  fame  from  Melton  Mowbray,  indicated  to  the  as- 
semblage that  the  chestnut  horse  Belvoir,  a  thoroughbred  of 
great  size  and  power,  would  be  the  one.  The  rider,  Mr.  Coplow, 
was  known  to  be  one  of  the  best  gentlemen  across  a  country  in 
England.  His  fame  was  much  more  widely  spread  than  that 
of  Tom  Scarlet  had  ever  been,  but  his  knowledge  of  the  Vale 
and  his  experience  at  its  very  heavy  fences  was  not  so  large  or 
so  thorough  as  that  of  the  man  whose  absence  the  people  of 
the  neighborhood  began  to  deplore.  The  general  opinion  was 
that  Sir  Jerry  would  name  The  Bagman  and  that  his  rider 
would  be  Mr.  Stilton,  a  very  good  man,  but  without  that  in- 


372  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

spiration  in  moments  of  difficulty,  and  that  magnetic  touch 
upon  the  reins,  at  supreme  efforts,  which  informs  and  revives 
the  horse.  These  Tom  Scarlet  was  thought  by  his  friends  to 
possess.  The  Bagman  had  arrived  and  Mr.  Stilton  with  a 
careless  air  walked  up  and  down  near  him  as  he  was  led  along. 
It  was  a  sight  at  which  Mr.  Southdown  and  the  farmers  who 
looked  upon  Mr.  Southdown  as  an  oracle  were  somewhat  dis- 
turbed. 

The  former  saw  The  Bagman,  and  he  saw  Mr.  Stilton  play- 
ing with  his  whip,  but  he  did  not  see  Sir  Jerry,  nor  John  Bull- 
finch, nor  Ransome,  the  great  man  among  horsemen,  who  pre- 
sided over  the  famous  stud  of  Lord  Jersey,  at  Middleton  Park. 
Mr.  Southdown  looked  glum,  and  told  his  friend  from  London, 
a  sporting  tavern-keeper,  who  had  come  down  to  see  the  match, 
that  his  mind  was  not  made  up  as  to  the  result. 

"  Southdown,  things  don't  look  well  for  your  party,"  said  the 
Londoner.  "The  Bagman  is  a  good  horse,  but  there  isn't 
enough  of  him  to  beat  Belvoir,  and  Mr.  Stilton  seems  to  think 
so.     Sir  Jerry  hangs  back.      Perhaps  he'll  forfeit." 

"  Sir  Jerry  never  hung  back  in  his  life,  sir,"  replied  Mr. 
Southdown.  "  It  wants  almost  half  an  hour  yet  to  the  time 
set  for  naming  the  horses.  They  can  start  anything  that  was 
regularly  ridden  to  hounds  last  year." 

"  Ay,  I  know ;  but  Sir  Jerry  has  but  The  Bagman  here, 
and  your  watch  is  slow,  I  think." 

"  It's  no  such  thing,  sir.  Your  Lunnon  time  is  fast. 
You're  a  good  deal  too  fast  in  everything.  But  I  shan't  argey 
the  p'int,"  said  Mr.  Southdown.      "  What's  that?" 

It  was  a  bustle  and  a  cheer  from  the  road,  as  Lady  Snaffle's 
phaeton  with  four  horses  and  postilions  and  an  outrider,  in 
the  baronet's  colors,  dark  blue  and  silver,  came  in  sight. 
These  colors  had  been  selected  by  the  Admiral,  as  representing 
the  ocean  out  of  soundings,  and  the  moonlit  surface  of  the 
silver  sea.  There  was  another  loud  cheer  as  the  carriage 
dashed  up  and  Lady  Snaffle  was  recognised.  The  Duke,  Sir 
Harry,  Captain  Fane,  and  others  raised  their  hats. 

"  Who's  that  lady  ?"  said  the  Londoner. 

"  Who's  that  lady,  sir !"  said  Mr.  Southdown,  with  undisguised 
contempt.  "  Is  it  possible  that  you've  come  down  here  on  this 
occasion,  and  don't  know  the  Admiral's  daughter,  when  she 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  873 

appears  in  state.  I  think  you  said,  just  now,  that  Sir  Jerry 
would  pay  forfeit.  You're  a  nice  man  !  but  it  ain'-t  worth 
while  argeying  the  p'int  with  a  Lunnoner." 

In  the  carriage  with  Lady  Snaffle  was  May  Bullfinch,  to- 
gether with  her  brother.  This  arrangement,  when  first  pro- 
posed, did  not  quite  suit  Young  Jack.  He  had  intended  to 
be  on  Young  Cowslip,  to  show  Lord  Doomsday  the  best  line 
for  Blue  Peter,  but  had  been  overruled,  in  order  that  he  might 
stand  up  and  describe  to  her  ladyship  the  moving  incidents 
of  the  steeple-chase  as  they  occurred.  The  postilions  had  not 
long  pulled  up,  when  Jack  Cotswold  came  dashing  along  on 
the  road  towards  the  bridge  in  a  gig,  with  a  young  woman  by 
his  side. 

"  Please,  my  lady,"  said  Young  Jack,  "  there's  Miriam  and 
her  uncle.  And,  6,  here's  Eose  and  those  twins,"  he  added, 
looking  back. 

There  indeed  was  Cooper  in  his  best  uniform,  patiently 
leading  a  donkey,  in  whose  panniers  sat  the  twins,  while  Rose 
strode  along  by  their  side  in  a  black  velvet  bonnet  profusely 
decorated  with  the  blue  and  silver  colors  of  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Cooper,"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  while  May 
Bullfinch  smiled  and  nodded. 

"I'm  hearty,  my  lady,  thanks  to  you.  I've  heard  the 
Admiral  has  hove  up  anchor,  and  is  standing  for  this  road- 
stead, under  a  press  of  sail.  Being  in  duty  bound  to  report 
to  him,  I've  come  myself,  and  lent  Uose  a  hand  to  steer  this 
donkey  and  take  care  of  the  children." 

"  As  if  I  couldn't  take  care  of  my  own  twins !"  said  Rose, 
with  some  contempt. 

"  But  why  have  you  brought  them  here,  Rose  ?"  said  Young 
Jack. 

"  Why  have  I  brought  'em  ?  Why  to  let  them  see  good 
horsemanship.  Haven't  my  twins  got  as  good  right  to  see  it 
as  other  people's  children  ?  You  and  Meg  Southdown  are 
here." 

Young  Jack  blushed  up  to  his  eyes,  and  said  in  a  low  voice, 
"  O,  my  lady,  let  this  woman  go  along.  Let  Cooper  take 
her  away." 

"  I'm  sure  I  am  willing,"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  with  a  low 
laugh. 


374  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

Just  then  there  was  a  louder  cheer  than  that  which  had 
greeted  Lady  Snaffle's  arrival,  and  it  came  from  the  road  in 
the  opposite  direction.  All  eyes  were  turned  that  way,  and 
from  a  lane  to  the  right  of  the  road  there  came  six  horsemen, 
followed  by  a  trooping  crowd  of  men,  boys  and  gypsy  women, 
all  shouting  and  clamoring. 

Sir  Jerry  Snaffle,  John  Bullfinch,  Lord  Doomsday  and 
Major  Fitzgerald  were  immediately  recognised,  but  the  dark 
man  on  John  Bullfinch's  left  hand  and  the  whiskered  person 
on  Sir  Jerry's  right  were  not,  save  by  Lady  Snaffle,  May  Bull- 
finch and  Young  Jack.  As  the  clamoring  crowd  drew  nearer 
the  other  parties  made  out  the  words,  "  Scarlet !  Scarlet !  Tom 
of  the  Grange !"  and  Mr.  Southdown  dashed  his  spurs  into 
the  sides  of  his  horse,  crying,  "  By  George !  he's  come !  My 
mind's  made  up !" 

He  was  still  more  excited  when  he  saw  behind  the  gentle- 
men, a  led  horse  in  clothes,  beside  which  Mr.  Kansome  rode, 
with  the  solemn,  anxious  face  he  always  had  when  attending 
a  racer  of  mighty  promise  on  a  great  day.  At  a  sign  from 
Lady  Snaffle,  the  whiskered  man  went  to  the  carriage  side,  and 
would  have  remained  there  bome  time  had  it  not  been  for  the 
expostulations  of  Sir  Jerry  and  John  Bullfinch,  The  dark 
man  and  Ransome  proceeded  into  the  field  with  the  horse  in 
clothes  between  them. 

"  What  the  d — 1  is  all  this  ?"  said  Sir  Harry  Plowden. 

*'  In  the  first  place,  it  is  Tom  Scarlet,  and  I  am  glad  he  has 
reached  home  safe  and  well,"  replied  the  Duke.  "  In  the  next 
place  he  seems  to  have  not  only  come  himself,  but  to  have 
brought  the  dark  horse  about  which  there  have  been  many 
rumors  in  respect  to  this  match." 

"  What  a  d d  rascal !  I  have  got  two  hundred  bet  at 

evens  with  Major  Fitzgerald,"  said  one  of  the  Melton  Mow- 
bray men. 

"  Rascal !"  said  the  Duke,  "  nothing  of  the  sort !  The  match 
always  contemplated  the  naming  of  any  horse  that  was  quali- 
fied by  having  been  hunted  with  last  year.  If  Sir  Jerry 
Snaffle  has  been  able  to  get  one  better  than  The  Bagman  it 
may  be  the  worse  for  me.  I  would  name  a  better  than  Bel- 
voir  if  I  knew  where  to  find  him.  I  know  of  no  gentleman 
who  would  feel  called  upon  to  do  more  than  comply  with  the 
terms  of  the  match,  and  this  Sir  Jerry  has  done. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  375 

"  Exactly  !"  said  Captain  Fane.  "  Our  friend  here  seems 
to  think  that  Sir  Jerry  ought  to  have  sent  the  bellman  round  to 
tell  the  people  that  he  had  a  better  chance  to  win  than  some 
supposed.  He  may  not  win.  I  have  known  dark  horses  de- 
ceive their  owners.     But  here  he  comes." 

"  Sir  Jerry,"  said  the  Duke,  as  the  Baronet  rode  up,  "  I  sin- 
cerely congratulate  you  upon  the  arrival  of  Tom  Scarlet.  His 
horsemanship  is  better  know^n  to  you,  but  hardly  better  appre- 
ciated than  by  me.  He  has  sometimes  hunted  with  my  hounds, 
and  I  hope  he  will  again." 

"  I  thank  your  grace  for  him,"  said  Sir  Jerry.  "  He  seems 
to  be  too  busy  just  now  with  his  neighbors  and  friends  to  come 
here  and  do  it  for  himself" 

"  We  suppose  you  are  now  ready  to  name  ?"  said  Sir  Harry. 

"  I  believe  so,"  replied  the  Duke.  "  Gentlemen,  I  name 
Belvoir,  hunted  with  my  own  hounds  last  year.  Mr.  Coplow 
will  ride  him." 

"  And  I,"  said  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle, "  name  the  White  Horse,  now 
called  St.  Jo.,  hunted  with  the  Vale  of  White  Horse  hounds 
last  year,  as  you,  Sir  Harry  Plowden,  and  you,  Captain  Fane, 
will  see  if  you  go  and  look  at  him." 

"  It  is  needless ;  still,  we  will  go  and  have  a  look  at  this 
champion  and  rover,"  said  the  Duke.  "  I'm  told  by  Sir  Jerry 
that  the  horse  has  been  to  America,  and  come  back  after  many 
adventures  among  Indians  and  hunters,"  he  added,  after  a  few 
words  with  the  Baronet. 

The  group  moved  towards  the  crowd  surrounding  the  White 
Horse.  The  latter  was  now  stripped  and  being  saddled  and 
fitted  out  by  Sassafras  and  Ransome.  His  bloodlike  appear- 
ance, and  the  immense  power  he  displayed — a  big  horse  on 
short  legs — were  quickly  noted  and  commented  on. 

"  You  seem  to  have  got  him  there,  Ransome,"  said  the 
Duke. 

"  I  think  w^e've  got  a  pretty  good  one,  your  grace,  but  the 
test  will  tell.  If  he's  as  good  as  he  looks,  and  as  Tom  Scarlet 
thinks,  Belvoir  and  Mr.  Coplow  wdll  have  hard  work  to  win," 
Ransome  replied. 

The  Duke,  Sir  Jerry  and  the  stewards  drew  off  again,  taking 
Tom  Scarlet  and  John  Bullfinch  with  them.  The  latter  in- 
vited Mr.  Southdown  to  go  also,  but  that  gentleman  was  the 


376  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

subject  of  another  attraction.  He  had  heard  of  Sassafras  from 
May  Bullfinch  and  Young  Jack  many  times  of  late ;  and  now 
that  he  was  in  presence,  the  ponderous  grazier  kept  close  by 
his  side.  There  was  no  small  contrast  between  the  dark,  lithe, 
black-eyed,  and  black-haired  man  of  the  Far  West,  and  the 
towering,  massive  grazier  of  the  midland  English  vale,  Avith  his 
full,  ruddy  face.  Yet  they  were  types  of  the  same  race ;  the 
former  modified,  or  rather  intensified,  by  the  residence  of  many 
generations  in  the  hot  summers  and  bilious  autumns  of  America, 

"  See  the  Duke's  horse — that's  Belvoir,"  said  Ransome  to 
Sassafras. 

"  A  grand  horse,"  replied  the  latter — "  a  noble  specimen  of 
the  thoroughbred.  But  don't  you  think  that  for  this  business, 
over  such  a  distance  of  ground  and  such  a  difficult  country, 
he  is  a  little  too  leggy  ?" 

"  It  may  be  so.  He  has  more  daylight  under  him  than  the 
White  Horse,  though  no  bigger  in  frame." 

"  That's  it.  And  then,  to  my  mind,  St.  Jo.  is  stronger  in 
the  back  and  loins,  his  big  quarters  are  more  turned  under  and 
better  calculated  to  send  him  over,  when  his  fine  shoulders 
lift  him  into  the  air.     But  here  comes  Tom  !" 

Mr.  Southdown  did  not  wait  for  Scarlet  and  John  Bull- 
finch, but  tearing  himself,  by  an  effort,  from  the  side  of  Sassa- 
fras, he  struggled  into  the  midst  of  a  thick  cluster  of  farmers 
and  hunting  men,  and,  mounting  his  horse,  proclaimed,  with 
a  stentorian  voice  and  cast  of  countenance  impregnable  against 
all  assault : 

"  My  mind's  made  up — fully  made  up  !" 

"  So  is  mine !"  said  an  opulent  yeoman  from  the  borders  of 
Whittlebury  Forest.  "  Belvoir  will  win  it !  Don't  tell  me 
about  your  White  Horse  and  rider  and  trainer  from  America, 
and  other  humbug !     I  say  Belvoir  and  Coplow  will  win  it !" 

"  Dick  King,"  replied  Mr.  Southdown,  "  I  shan't  argey  the 
question.    I'll  bet  fifty  guineas  Belvoir  and  Coplow  don't  win." 

His  friend  was  about  to  take  the  bet,  but  before  he  had 
said  "  Done !"  he  heard  the  clear,  cutting  tones  of  Sassafras,  as 
he  led  the  White  Horse  up  to  the  stewards,  Tom  Scarlet  in 
the  saddle,  in  the  blue  and  silver,  and  let  go  of  his  bridle. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  man  of  the  West,  "  here's  St.  Jo., 
and  here  is  his  rider.  Everybody  can  see  them  now,  and  I'll 
bet  a  hundred  ounces  they  win  this  match !" 


THE  WHITE  HOESE  OF  WOOTTON.  377 

«  Who  is  this  man,  and  what  does  he  mean?"  said  the  Duke 
to  Sir  Jerry  and  Tom  Scarlet. 

"  He  is  a  friend  of  mine,  yoar  grace ;  a  very  gallant,  de- 
voted friend,  too,"  replied  Tom.  "  He  is  a  planter  and  a  great 
hunter  and  a  lover  of  good  horses.  His  plantation  on  the 
Missouri  river  is  as  beautiful  a  place  as  you  would  wish  to 
see — that  is,  all  natural." 

"  A  planter,  eh !  What  does  he  mean  by  one  hundred 
ounces  ?" 

"  Ounces  of  gold,  your  grace.    About  four  hundred  pounds." 

"  Can  he  afibrd  to  lose  it?"  said  the  Duke. 

"  Yes  ;  but  he  thinks  he  can  win ;  and  I  think  so  too,"  said 
Tom. 

"  I'll  take  his  bet  though,"  said  the  Duke. 

He  then  walked  up  to  Sassafras  and  said  : 

"  Sir,  I'll  take  the  bet  of  a  hundred  ounces  you  have  pro- 
posed." 

"  All  right,  your  grace !  I'll  put  my  money  up  into  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Bullfinch  here,  or  anybody's." 

"  There  is  no  need,  sir.  It  is  perfectly  safe  with  you — as 
safe  as  mine  is  with  me." 

With  this  the  Duke  mounted  his  horse ;  and  St.  Jo.  and 
Belvoir  being  all  ready,  and  Sir  Harry  Plowden  mounted  and 
flag  in  hand,  Sassafras  said  a  few  words  to  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle, 
threw  himself  into  the  saddle  of  The  Bagman,  and  galloped 
away  towards  the  west,  over  the  fields  between  the  flags  and 
the  road.  And  now  the  impatience  and  din  of  the  crowd 
increased,  and  swelled  up  like  the  rush  of  winds,  or  the  roar 
of  swift-running  waters.  Some  horsemen  stole  ahead,  unwill- 
ing to  leave  the  neighborhood  of  the  start,  especially  with  so 
many  eyes  on  them,  but  fearing  that  if  they  did  not,  they 
might  be  away  in  the  rear  at  the  finish.  The  men  and  boys 
in  the  trees  rustled  among  the  twigs,  and  craned  their  necks 
forward.  The  ladies  in  the  windows  and  galleries  of  the  mills 
pressed  upon  the  rails.  The  postilions  of  Lady  Snaffle's  car- 
riage sat  in  their  saddles,  looking  over  their  left  shoulders, 
and  with  their  whips  ready  to  fall.  Her  ladyship  stood  up 
for  a  moment,  then  sat  down  again  to  speak  to  May  Bullfinch. 
Then  Young  Jack  cried,  shrill  and  loud,  "  Off"  they  go,  my 
lady !" 


378  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

HURRAH  !  hurrah  !"  shouted  the  men  and  boys  in  the 
trees.  "  Clear  the  "svay  !  By  your  leave  there!  Clear 
the  way  !"  cried  the  horsemen  in  the  road,  spurring  forward, 
and  narrowly  missing  the  knocking  down  of  some  foot  people. 

Crack  !  crack  !  like  the  report  of  two  rifles,  went  the  whips 
of  the  postilions,  and  Lady  Snaffle's  carriage,  cheered  to  the 
echo  as  it  passed  along,  was  whirled  away  with  the  four  horses 
at  a  gallop. 

While  the  riders  of  Belvoir  and  St.  Jo.  kept  the  true  line  of 
the  course  outside  the  flags,  the  stewards  and  many  horsemen 
well  mounted,  with  some  not  as  well  mounted  as  they  thought, 
took  the  shorter  way  over  the  fields  and  fences,  on  the  in;iide 
of  the  flags.  The  horsemen  and  foot  people  streamed  along  the 
road  so  fast  that  they  could  hardly  look  at  the  contestants 
away  to  the  left ;  but  whenever  Belvoir  and  St.  Jo.  made  a 
good  leap,  the  men  in  the  trees  swung  their  hats  and  shouted, 
and  the  ladies  at  the  windmills  wa,ved  their  handkerchiefs  with 
delight  and  glee.  The  incidents  were  commented  upon  to 
Lady  Snaffle  and  JMay  Bullfinch  by  that  sharp  observer  and 
competent  critic.  Young  Jack. 

"  They  have  got  into  the  straight  going,  my  lady,  and  are 
running  due  west.  The  pace  is  improved.  They  are  nearing 
the  big  ox-fences  of  the  line.  They  are  just  going  at  the  first 
real  rasper.  Belvoir  clears  it.  So  does  St.  Jo. !  My  lady ! 
such  a  jumper.  Now  the  pace  is  good.  Coplow  keeps  the 
very  crown  of  a  land,  while  Tom  gallops  on  the  south  slope  of 
the  next.  Good  judgment  that,  my  lady  ;  for  the  sunny  side 
of  the  lands  is  better  going  than  the  very  top  in  our  deep  goil, 
as  Mr.  Coplow  and  his  horse  will  find  out,  Now  they  are 
coming  to  the  brook  above  the  bend.  It's  no  great  thing  of  a 
jump,  but  it  has  spilt  some  already.  There  are  four  men  in 
it,  this  side  of  the  flags,  and  their  horses  are  loose.  Cowslip 
takes  it  beautiful !  There's  a  girl  at  the  windmill  leaning 
over  the  gallery  rail  so  far,  that  she'll  be  clean  over  directly ; 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  379 

and  it's  forty  feet  to  the  ground.  I  hope  it  isn't  Meg  South- 
down. Belvoir  is  across  the  brook !  So  is  St.  Jo. !  He  over- 
jumped at  least  six  feet,  my  lady,  and  is  pulling  hard.  Now 
the  pace  is  strong.  They  are  coming  to  the  bullfinch,  where 
Tom  pounded  Lord  Doomsday.  O,  my  lady  !  O,  May !  Coplow 
only  just  missed  a  cropper  !  His  horse  stuck  in  the  middle,  and 
blundered  through.  Tom  rode  at  it  as  a  bull  terrier  goes  at  a 
badger.  The  Vv  hite  Horse  smashed  through,  like  a  cannon- 
ball  !  It's  the  best  steeple-chase  that  ever  was  seen.  Now  Tom 
draws  up  closer  to  Belvoir.  He  is  at  his  hip,  and  forces  the 
pace.  My  lady,  they  will  soon  be  at  the  brook  below  the 
bend.  Let  us  be  there  first,  and  see  the  game  from  the 
bridge." 

"  On,  boys,  on  !"  The  whips  of  the  postilions  smacked,  and 
the  steaming  horses  galloped.  The  first  great  crisis  of  the 
race  was  near  at  baud.  The  horsemen  in  the  fields  sought  the 
road,  to  avoid  the  brook  at  this  its  widest  and  most  difiicult 
part.  The  Duke,  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle,  Sir  Harry,  and  John  Bull- 
finch came  sweeping  by,  while  the  foot  people  cheered  lustily. 
Near  the  bridge  the  press  was  great.  A  hulkiug  fellow  brought 
the  carriage  to  a  standstill,  by  getting  before  the  leaders  in 
the  middle  of  the  road.  He  caught  at  the  heads  of  the 
horses.  The  postilions  swore.  Youug  Jack  stormed.  The 
sailor  Cox  parted  the  crowd  like  a  wedge ;  caught  the  fellow 
by  the  collar ;  with  a  straight  left-handed  hit,  sent  him  stag- 
gering into  the  ditch,  and  touched  his  hat  to  the  Admiral's 
daughter.  Now  they  had  attained  the  very  keystone  of  the 
bridge,  and  over  the  heads  of  the  foot  people  saw  the  yellow, 
turbid  torrent,  as  it  came  rushing  down  towards  them.  Lady 
Snaffle  looked  a  little  anxious,  and  May  Bullfinch  grew  paler. 
About  two  hundred  yards  to  the  south  the  steeple-chasers  were 
coming  to  the  brook  above  the  bridge.  They  were  nearly 
neck  and  neck.  The  crimson  and  strawberry  leaves  of  the 
Duke  were  nearest,  but  the  blue  and  silver  of  the  baronet 
were  dearest  to  the  men  of  the  Vale.  The  interest  was  intense. 
The  people  held  their  breath.  Lady  Snaffle  and  May  Bull- 
finch stood  up,  while  Young  Jack  was  too  excited  to  speak. 
Tramp!  tramp!  The  very  ground  seemed  to  shake  as  the 
powerful  horses  stode  on.  Belvoir  led  a  trifle.  As  he  came 
to  the  bank,  and  heard  the  wild  rush  of  the  waters,  he  refused 


380  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

the  leap,  swerved  round  to  the  left,  and,  striking  the  haunch 
of  St.  Jo.  with  his  shoulder  just  as  he  was  leaving  his  ground 
for  a  grand  leap,  tumbled  him  and  his  rider  heels  over  head 
into  the  flood.  A  shout !  a  yell !  a  shriek  !  May  Bullfinch  fell 
back  into  her  seat,  covering  her  eyes  with  her  hands.  Lady 
Snaifle  grasped  Young  Jack  by  the  shoulder.  The  White 
Horse  was  seen  gallantly  breasting  the  current,  and  making 
for  the  bank  he  had  meant  to  reach  by  his  leap ;  but  his  gal- 
lant rider,  helpless,  stunned  by  the  hoof  of  his  own  horse,  was 
floating  down  the  stream.  A  man  came  running  down  the 
bank  swift  as  an  arrow,  and  while  Lady  Snafile's  gaze  was  still 
upon  the  patch  of  blue  in  the  middle  of  the  yellow  waters,  a 
dark  form  cleft  the  air  and  plunged  into  the  stream. 

"  There !  the  man !  the  man  !"  she  exclaimed.  "  I  think  it 
was  the  sailor !" 

"  O,  no,  my  lady !"  said  Young  Jack,  tearfully,  "  that  was 
Sassafras.    And  see,  he'll  have  Tom  out." 

Close  to  the  bridge,  unseen  by  the  spectators  upon  it,  and 
by  almost  every  one  else.  Parkins,  half  drunk  as  usual,  per- 
formed a  sort  of  dance,  jumping  up  and  down  and  shouting 
"  He's  in,  he's  in !"  Whether  his  exclamations  proceeded 
from  joy  did  not  exactly  appear.  He  had  never  liked  Tom 
Scarlet  before  he  went  to  America,  and  it  was  doubtful  whether 
he  liked  him  much  better  now  that  he  found  the  young  man 
had  returned,  for  the  opinion  of  Parkins  in  regard  to  America 
was  not  high.  Kose  Tanner  concluded,  however,  that  Parkins 
was  rejoicing  over  Tom  Scarlet's  mishap,  and  while  the  con- 
stable continued  to  shout  "  He's  in,  he's  in  !"  she  rushed  at  him 
crying  "  Drat  that  man  !"  and  with  a  vigorous  shove  with  both 
hands  sent  him  headlong  in  himself.  Her  brother.  Cooper, 
got  hold  of  him  as  he  rose  to  the  surface,  and  "  hauled  him 
aboard,"  as  he  called  it. 

Coplow  had  managed  to  get  Belvoir  over,  and  the  stout 
White  Horse  had  attained  the  west  bank  farther  up,  when  the 
powerful  arm  of  Sassafras  carried  Tom  Scarlet  to  the  shore. 
The  blood  was  running  down  his  cheek.  He  staggered  when 
set  upon  his  legs,  and  looked  around  confused.  Sassafras  put 
his  mouth  to  his  ear  and  shouted  aloud  : 

"Come,  Tom,  rouse  yourself!  Pm  here!  Sassafras!  and 
May  Bullfinch  is  looking  on.  Put  your  fingers  in  your  mouth 
and  call  up  St.  Jo." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON,  381 

The  young  man  did  as  he  was  told,  and  at  the  loud  whistle 
the  horse  came  up.  With  the  assistance  of  Sassafras,  Tom 
Scarlet  was  remounted.  The  seat  upon  the  horse  appeared  to 
revive  and  steady  him,  while  the  flow  of  blood  helped  to  do  so. 

"  Tom,"  said  Sassafras,  "  you  can  win  this  yet.  The  other 
horse  is  a  good  way  ahead,  but  he  is  already  sinking,  and 
tires  at  every  stride.  I  think  he'll  very  likely  fall  before  he 
gets  home.  St.  Jo.  is  fresh,  and  will  stand  the  pressure  to  the 
end.  Close  up  gradually.  What  do  you  call  that  last  big 
fence  ?" 

"  Barker's  Bullfinch." 

"  Very  well !  creep  up  by  degrees,  keeping  in  powder  enough 
to  close  with  him  when  he  uears  that.  Your  horse  is  much 
the  freshest.  You  are  none  the  worse  for  the  bath.  You 
know  the  lay  of  the  land,  and  I  think  you'll  win  it  yet.  Be 
cool  and  steady.  When  you  believe  that  you  hr.ve  the  race 
safe  cry  Cinnamon's  war-cry." 

The  young  man  nodded,  and  away  he  went  with  the  White 
Horse.  For  half  a  mile  the  people  at  the  bridge  could 
still  see  the  horses  as  they  galloped  over  field  after  field  and 
took  the  fences,  Belvoir  with  a  large  lead.  Sassafras  walked 
to  the  bridge  and  took  a  station  on  the  western  pier  on  the 
south  side,  looking  steadily  at  the  W  hite  Horse,  who  was  going 
with  long  and  powerful  strides.  The  relative  positions  of  the 
horses  seemed  to  the  crowd  unchanged,  and  neither  Lady  Snaf- 
fle nor  May  Bullfiuch  had  any  hopes  of  final  victory.  The 
experienced  eye  of  Young  Jack  detected,  however,  that  the 
White  Horse  was  gaining  on  the  chestnut,  and  that  Mr.  Cop- 
low  was  beginning  to  force  his  horse,  and  he  said,  "  O,  my 
lady !  O,  May !  he  gains  at  every  stride.  He  jumps  as  strong 
and  as  well  as  he  did  at  the  first  leap.  If  it  were  but  a  quar- 
ter of  a  mile  further  he  couldn't  lose  it,  and  there's  a  chance 
as  it  is !" 

"  Chance,  young  squire !  I  say  it's  a  certainty,"  cried  Rose 
Tanner.  ."  Coplow  '11  come  down  a  reg'lar  cropper  at  Bar- 
ker's Bullfinch." 

"  I  say,  Rose,  how  do  you  know^  ?" 

«  Well,  you  see,  I  consults  the  stars.'* 

The  horses  were  now  out  of  sight,  having  passed  over  a  low 
hill  towards  the  northwest  and  the  last  half  mile  of  the  course. 


382  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

The  carriage  remained  upon  the  bridge,  for  there  was  such  a 
press  of  horsemen  and  foot  people  on  the  road  beyond  it  that 
it  was  almost  impassable.  Still  the  figure  of  the  American 
remained  upon  the  pier,  intent  upon  the  northwest,  and  rigid 
as  a  statue  carved  in  granite.  At  length,  over  the  hubbub 
and  clamor  of  the  multitude,  there  rose  from  the  distance  a 
wild,  shrill,  echoing  cry,  at  which  Lady  Snafile  started,  and 
Sassafras  jumped  to  the  ground. 

"  Oh,  that  fearful  cry,"  said  she.  "  Some  other  accident, 
more  dreadful,  has  happened." 

"  No,  madam,"  said  Sassafras.  "  'Twas  the  warwhoop  of  the 
wild  Cheyennes,  and  Tom  has  victory  in  his  grasp  !" 

"  O,  my  lady  !  I  know  it's  true,"  said  Young  Jack.  "  It's  a 
great  pity  we  couldn't  see  them  take  Barker's  Bullfinch. 
Please,  my  lady,  let  me  take  Wingfield's  horse  and  go  and  see. 
I'll  be  back  with  the  news  in  two  or  three  minutes." 

Lady  Snaffle  would  not  consent  to  this,  and  they  remained 
in  uncertainty  for  some  time.  Then  pouring  over  the  hill, 
half  a  mile  away,  and  stretching  from  one  side  of  the  field  to 
the  other  came  a  great  throng  of  people  on  horseback  and  on 
foot.  Young  Jack  saw  a  group  marching  proudly,  as  it  were, 
in  the  centre  of  the  liue. 

"  O,  my  lady,  my  lady  !  O,  May,  my  dear  sister  May !  It's 
all  right — there  they  come.  Sassafras  leads  the  White  Horse, 
my  father  rides  on  one  side  of  him  and  Mr.  Eansome  on  the 
other.  Tom's  afoot — he  leans  upon  Sir  Jerry  and  Major  Fitz- 
gerald, and  Lord  Doomsday  is  with  them.  O,  if  we  had  only 
seen  them  take  Barker's  Bullfinch  I  could  die  happy !" 

"  Better  die  game.  Young  Jack,"  said  Kose  Tanner,  as  she 
marshalled  aloug  her  brother  with  the  donkey  and  the  twins. 
"  If  Tom  had  been  drowned  he  would  have  died  game.  If 
Coplow  has  broken  his  neck  at  the  bullfinch  he  has  died  game." 

Soon  there  came  spurring  by  men  on  horseback,  fiery  hot 
with  haste,  each  intent  on  being  first  to  carry  the  news  to 
Aylesbury,  and  shouting  "  Scarlet,  Scarlet  for  ever !  Sir  Jerry 
and  St.  Jo. !     He  won  with  his  ears  pricked." 

"  Thank  God !"  said  May.  "  O,  I  hope  Mr.  Coplow  is  not 
hurt." 

"  Home,  home !"  said  Lady  Snaflie,  with  her  handkerchief 
to  her  eyes. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  383 

The  carriage  was  wheeled  around,  and  away  it  went,  while 
Young  Jack  said : 

"  Well,  concerning  Coplow — I'll  lay  two  to  one  that  it's 
nothing  serious.  Some  such  slight  matter  as  the  collar-bone, 
my  lady,  or  a  rib  or  two,  and  you  know  hunting  men  are  used 
to  it.  When  father  was  brought  home  on  a  hurdle  ten  years 
ago  he  said  to  the  doctor,  '  I'm  all  right.  It's  Cowslip  that 
I'm  anxious  about.  If  young  Tom  Scarlet  will  ride  over  to 
Middleton  for  Kansome  I  shall  be  easy  in  my  mind  respecting 
the  mare.' " 

The  narrative  of  Master  Bullfinch  was  interrupted  by  the 
stoppage  of  the  carriage.  It  soon  appeared  that  Parkins  was 
in  the  road  in  such  a  condition  that  he  might  have  taken  him- 
self up  on  the  charge  of  being  "  drunk  and  incapable."  He 
had  come  to  the  steeple-chase  provided  with  a  bottle  of  gin, 
and  the  greater  part  of  this  he  had  swallowed  as  soon  as  he 
was  hauled  out  of  the  stream  by  Rose  Tanner's  brother.  He 
was  now  brought  to  the  wheel  by  a  couple  of  young  ragamuf 
fin  gypsies,  who  seemed  to  enjoy  his  plight  very  much. 

"  Parkins,  what  a  condition,"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  "  for  one  in 
your  position !     You  have  been  drinking." 

"  Yes,  mum,  madam,  my  lady,  I  has— about  two  gallons  in 
the  bruk." 

"  Sir,  you  are  intoxicated !" 

«  If  water  from  the  bruk  will  'toxicate  the  authorities,  my 
lady,  I  may  as  well  admit  that  I  be." 

"Sir,  you  are  very  drunk,"  said  the  lady  with  difficulty  re- 
pressing an  inclination  to  laugh. 

"  I  think  not,  my  lady.  I'll  leave  it  to  Master  Bullfinch 
and  these  gypsy  boys.  I  was  never  drunk  in  my  life,  except 
at  harvest  homes  and  such  like  gatherings,  where  no  true  man 
keeps  sober.  I  may  be  on  this  occasion  a  little  gammoned, 
but " 

"  Boys,"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  "  take  him  to  the  nearest  farm- 
house   You  shall  be  paid  for  doing  so.   Home !  home  quickly  !" 


384  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

"  Say,  why  are  beauties  praised  and  honored  most, 
The  wise  man's  passion  and  the  vain  man's  boast? 
AVhy  decked  with  all  that  land  and  sea  afford, 
Why  angels  called,  and  angel-like  adored  ?'•' 

LADY  SNAFFLE  ^Yas  with  May  Bullfinch  before  a  bright 
fire  in  a  spacious  drawing-room,  handsomely  furnished, 
and  adorned  with  fine  paintings.  They  chiefly  related  to  nau- 
tical subjects,  and  to  those  landscapes  of  woodland,  field  and 
stream  which  were,  in  a  measure,  connected  with  the  turf  and 
chase.  There  was,  however,  none  among  them  more  beautiful 
and  pleasing  than  the  picture  presented  by  the  elegant  lady 
and  fair  young  girl  who  sat  side  by  side  and  chatted  pleasantly 
over  the  cheerful  blaze.  Her  ladyship  was  richly,  though  not 
showily,  attired,  and  in  her  soft  armchair  she  evidently  enjoyed 
luxurious  comfort  and  repose,  and  was  well  pleased  with  her- 
self and  every  one  else.  She  tapped  the  thick  carpet  with  the 
tip  of  the  dainty  slipper  just  visible  beneath  the  late  flounce 
of  her  satin  dress,  and  played  with  the  costly  ruffles  that,  fall- 
ing over  her  fair  hand,  vied  with  the  fretwork  of  the  frost,  or 
the  delicate  tracery  of  white  foam  on  the  falling  wave.  If 
there  was  any  exception  to  the  general  satisfaction  the  lady 
felt,  it  was  caused  by  the  fact,  that  she  had  been  waiting  for 
her  husband  some  time  ;  and  this  was  a  thing  which  the  wife 
of  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  frequently  had  to  do.  On  this  occasion, 
however,  his  delay  had  afforded  an  opportunity  for  a  cosy  con- 
ference and  conversation  with  May  Bullfinch — a  thing  in  which 
her  godmother  took  much  pleasure.  For  some  time  nothing 
was  heard  but  the  kind  tones  of  the  Baronet's  lady,  or  the 
rustle  of  her  satin  skirts,  save  the  sweet  voice  of  May  in  re- 
ply ;  but  Young  Jack  then  entered,  and  informed  the  lady 
that  Mr.  Ransome  had  reached  the  Hall,  on  his  way  home  to 
Middleton.  Lady  Snaffle  desired  that  he  might  be  requested 
to  wait  on  her  for  a  few  minutes,  and  the  trainer  soon  entered. 
He  was  close  shaven,  booted  and  spurred,  a  model  of  neat- 
ness, although  but  lately  he  had  been  bespattered  with  mud. 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N.  385 

His  face  was  thoughtful  and  keen,  and  there  was  a  sort  of 
depth  in  his  hazel  eye,  as  if  contemplating  great  things  to  come. 
It  was  a  look  well  becoming  to  the  man  who  had  in  charge 
the  famous  mares  Trampoline  and  Cobweb.  The  former  had 
borne  Glencoe,  and  the  last-named  had  at  her  foot  her  mighty 
son  Bay  Middleton.  Young  Jack  looked  up  to  the  trainer 
with  profound  respect ;  his  sister  esteemed  him  as  one  of  her 
father's  nearest  friends ;  Lady  Snaffle  held  him  in  regard  as  a 
man  of  worth  and  ability,  confided  in  by  Lord  Jersey,  and  by 
his  countess.  Ransome  was  a  man  who  did  honor  to  his  pro- 
fession, and  though  his  name  was  seldom  seen  in  the  sporting 
journals  and  magazines,  as  Lord  Jersey's  horses  were  sent  to 
New  Market  for  their  final  preparation  at  the  hands  of  Ed- 
wards, he  could  not  well  have  been  spared  from  that  worthy 
and  able  fraternity.  John  Bullfinch  had  sometimes  observed 
to  Lord  Jersey,  that  all  the  ploughing,  harrowing,  sowing  and 
tending,  was  done  by  Ransome  at  Middleton,  and  Edwards 
merely  had  to  put  the  sickle  in,  and  reap  the  harvest.  To 
this  the  earl  usually  replied,  that  what  with  the  brood-mares, 
sucking  foals,  yearlings  and  two-year-olds,  Ransome  had  too 
much  to  attend  to  at  Middleton,  to  be  spared  for  the  purpose 
of  looking  after  the  fortunes  of  two  or  three-year-olds.  "  And, 
besides,"  the  stout  earl  would  say,  "  Lady  Jersey  would  not 
hear  of  it,  Farmer  Bullfinch  !  Without  Ransome  at  the  park 
she  would  never  be  satisfied  when  we  are  away." 

Now,  Lady  Snafile  was  the  most  intimate  country  friend  of 
the  illustrious  countess,  who  had  been  one  of  the  most  brilliant 
ornaments  of  two  or  three  courts,  and  therefore  the  deference 
shown  by  the  trainer  was  only  exceeded  by  the  respect  mani- 
fested in  every  word  and  gesture  of  the  baronet's  wife." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Ransome  !"  she  said  ;  "  such  a  day !  such  events !" 

"  Wonderful,  my  lady  !  glorious  !  I  would  have  given  any- 
thing if  Lord  Jersey  and  the  countess  had  been  here  to  see  it ! 
We  never  had  anything  so  good  before.  We  have  often  had 
great  steeple-chases,  with  large  fields  of  horses  and  much  fine 
riding,  but  never  one  that  came  up  to  this." 

"  What  do  the  gentlemen  say,  Ransome  ?  and  where  is  Sir 
Jerry  Snaffle  ?"  said  her  ladyship. 

"  The  gentlemen  have  all  gone  to  the  Barleymow,  my  lady, 
to  talk  over  the  events  of  the  day!  They  are  all  much  de- 
25 


886  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO X. 

lighted — that  is,  all  but  a  veiy  few  who  lost  on  the  race.  That 
class  of  the  people  never  ought  to  bet,  my  lady.  If  they 
win  they  crow  and  brag  over  it,  as  if  they  had  brought  the 
thing  off.  If  they  lose,  they  grumble  and  look  black,  and 
make  insinuations.  I  am  sure  the  Duke's  horse  was  well 
trained,  and  Mr.  Coplow  rode  well." 

"  Never  mind  the  grumblers,  Kansome,"  said  Lady  Snaffle. 
"  We  are  very  much  pleased.  I  wish  Lady  Jersey  had  been 
present,  just  to  see  a  young  man  of  her  own  neighborhood 
ride.     What  is  said  of  Mr.  Scarlet  ?" 

"I  just  stayed  to  hear  his  health  proposed,  and  help  to  do 
honor  to  it,  and  then  came  away,  my  lady." 

"  Who  proposed  it,  and  how  was  it  received  ?" 

"The  Duke  proposed  it,  my  lady,  in  a  beautiful  little 
speech.  It  was  received  with  three  hurrahs,  such  as  the  fox- 
hunters  can  give.  The  Duke  said  Tom  Scarlet's  riding,  after 
the  spill  at  the  brook,  was  the  finest  thing  he  ever  saw — a 
mast<n^piece  of  art." 

"  May,  my  dear,  you  hear  this  !  The  Duke  of  Jumpover 
and  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  are  as  good  judges  of  noble  horseman- 
ship as  any  in  England.     I  am  so  pleased  !" 

"  So  am  I,  my  lady  !"  said  Young  Jack  ;  "  and  I  know,  too, 
that  the  Duke  and  Sir  Jerry  are  as  good  judges  as  Ransome 
himself" 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  with  a  smile.  "  And  now, 
Mr.  Ransome,  tell  us  what  was  said  about  the  American." 

"  Something  handsome,  my  lady,  I'll  warrant ;  but  I  didn't 
stay  to  hear  it.  There  is  but  one  opinion.  Everybody  likes 
the  man,  when  they  come  to  know  a  little  of  him.  I  took  to 
him  in  two  hours,  for  I  found  out  that  he  had  that  sound 
judgment  and  knowledge  and  love  of  horses  that  goes  further 
with  me  than  anything  else.  My  lady,  he's  a  clever  man. 
He  trained  that  AVhite  Horse  to  perfection.  I  told  them  that 
he  couldn't  be  improved,  as  soon  as  I  saw  him  go  a  four-mile 
gallop.  And  Sassafras,  to-day,  dressed  Tom  Scarlet's  head 
with  equal  skill.  He's  a  very  clever  man,  my  lady,  and  if 
he  was  to  set  up  in  the  surgical  line  about  here,  where  a  good 
many  broken  heads  and  limbs  are  going,  especially  in  the 
holiday  and  hunting  seasons,  he  would  beat  Doctor  Dose  all 
h<jllow." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  387 

«  Was  Mr.  Scarlet's  head  hurt  ?"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  gently 
restraining  May  with  a  light  hand  on  her  arm. 

"  Badly  cut  by  St.  Jo.'s  hoof  when  they  were  in  the  water, 
which  made  Tom  incapable,  my  lady ;  but  Sassafras  has 
dressed  it  with  brandy  and  brown  paper  and  a  few  drops  of  a 
balsam  he  got  from  the  Indians.  It  is  now  tied  up  in  a  red 
silk  handkerchief,  and  everybody  is  satisfied  that  it  is  a  beau- 
tiful case." 

"  Mr.  Ransome,  I  am  not  so  satisfied  myself,"  said  Lady 
Snaffle,  with  promptitude.  "  TIk  young  man  should  have 
been  brought  here.     I  dare  say  he  was  drinking  ?" 

"The  doctor,  my  lady — meaning  Sassafras! — said  a  little 
would  do  him  good,  and  Sir  Jerry  concurred  in  the  opinion." 

"It  is  just  like  the — sailors,  I  was  going  to  say;  but  my 
father,  the  Admiral,  now  that  I  remember,  always  prefers  rum 
to  brandy  for  an  injury  to  the  head,  to  be  taken  as  well  as 
applied.  I  shall  send  John  with  a  message  to  Sir  Jerry,  re- 
questing him  to  bring  Mr.  Scarlet  here  without  delay." 

"If  your  ladyship  pleases,"  said  Young  Jack,  "it  will  be 
better  to  send  77ie  instead  of  John.  If  John  goes  and  delivers 
the  message,  Sir  Jerry  will  just  say  to  him,  'Very  well  give 
my  compliments  to  her  ladyship,  and  tell  her  we  will  be  there 
very  soon !'  and  then,  my  lady,  he'il  just  turn  to  the  Duke 
or  the  Major  or  Sir  Harry  or  Lord  Doomsday,  and  forget  all 
about  it.  But  if  I  go,  my  Lady,  I  shall  just  say  to  Mr.  Scar- 
let, '  Tom  you  are  desired  by  Lady  Snaffle  to  come  to  the  Hall 
directly  ;  and.  Sassafras,  you  are  requested  by  my  sister  to  see 
that  he  does  so,  right  away  r  " 

"  What's  '  right  away  T "  said  Lady  Snaffle,  with  a  laugh. 

"  My  lady,  it  is  what  I  have  heard  Sassafras  and  Tom  say. 
It  means  forthwith,  without  delay,  instanter." 

"Your  ladyship  had  better  send  Master  Bullfinch  than 
John,"  said  Mr.  Ransome,  laying  his  hand  fondly  on  Jack's 
head,  "  and  I  will  see  him  mounted  and  started." 

"  Go,  then.  Master  Bullfinch,  and  bring  Mr.  Tom  Scarlet 
and  Mr.  Sassafras  here  right  aiuay  r 

With  this  Lady  Snaffle  made  a  graceful  and  gracious  in- 
clination to  Ransome,  and  the  latter  with  Young  Jack  left  the 
room. 

"  My  dear,"  said  Lady  Snaffle,  "  your  brother  is  a  very  nice, 


388  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

clever  boy — so  prompt  and  alert.  My  father  is  much  pleased 
with  him.  The  Admiral  was  always  very  fond  of  sharp  boys, 
and  he  wanted  to  place  Master  Bullfinch  on  board  of  a  man-of- 
war.  He  has  i:)rofessional  notions  about  boys,  much  better,  he 
says,  than  those  of  tutors  and  schoolmasters.  We  went  once 
to  see  a  cousin  of  mine  at  a  great  school,  and  when  we  came 
away  I  said :  '  My  dear  father,  I  know  you  are  pleased  with 
what  we  have  seen.  The  young  gentlemen  are  so  well  man- 
nered, so  well  informed,  so  very  nice  and  polite.'  But  he 
said :  *  Pshaw !  Laura,  there  ought  not  to  be  any  such  thing 
as  a  nice  young  gentleman  ;  there  is  no  use  for  such  a  person 
as  a  nice  young  gentleman.  Here,  now,  has  been  a  great  waste 
of  capital  material  for  reefers  and  topmen,  which  last  are  the 
hardest  to  come  by.'  Reefers  are  midshipmen,  May  ;  topmen 
the  sailors  who  'handle  the  great  sails  and  man  the  heavy 
guns.  And  the  Admiral  added:  'Well-mannered,  Laura! 
Nothing  to  my  boys,  my  young  reefers  on  the  quarter-deck  of 
a  first-rate,  especially  when  they  had  been  mast-headed  for 
an  hour  or  two.  Every  one  of  those  boys  could  make  a  bow- 
line knot,  and  look  into  the  muzzles  of  the  enemy's  guns,  in 
broad-side  or  battery,  without  winking.  Young  gentlemen, 
indeed  !'  But  I  said  :  '  My  dear  father,  these  young  gentle- 
men are  getting  a  superior  education.'  And  then,  my  dear, 
he  burst  out :  *  Superior  education  !  Fiddlesticks  and  frying- 
pans  !  The  place  for  a  superior  education,  Laura,  is  the  quar- 
ter-deck of  a  fighting  ship.  Look  at  me!  Your  grandfather, 
a  very  wise  man,  sent  me  aboard  at  ten  years  old.  Racehorse 
frigate — Sir  Jerry's  father  was  a  reefer  in  her  too.  I  should 
never  have  been  the  man  I  am  if  I  had  gone  to  school  ashore 
— I  know  I  shouldn't  !'  And  I  believe,  my  dear,"  Lady 
Snaffle  added,  "that  my  father  is  quite  right  on  that  p»int." 

The  lady's  reminiscences,  touching  the  opinions  and  senti- 
ments of  the  gallant  Admiral  Broadside,  as  good  a  man  as 
ever  heard  the  rush  of  the  round  shot  and  the  whistle  of  the 
grape,  were  cut  short  by  the  announcement  that  the  Admiral 
had  himself  arrived,  and  he  was  ushered  in  attended  by  his 
valet,  a  superannuated  coxswain.  The  Admiral  was  tall 
and  portly,  very  red  in  the  face,  with  white  hair,  bleached  by 
sixty  years  service  at  sea,  and  he  walked  with  a  limp  fr(;m  an 
old  wound  which  had  shattered  his  left  hip.  He  kissed  his 
daughter,  shook  bands  with  jMay  Bullfinch  and  said  : 


THE  WHITE  HOUSE  OF  WOOTTON.  389 

"  Here  I  am,  Lady  Laura,  arrived  in  the  nick  of  time  for 
the  steeple-chase." 

"  I  wish  you  had  seen  it,  papa,"  said  Lady  Snaffle. 

"  Seen  it,  child !  I'll  warrant  I  saw  more  of  it  than  you  did. 
Finding  what  was  going  on  when  we  reached  the  hill,  I  stopped 
the  chaise,  and  by  means  of  a  rope  and  ladder  Mainbrace  and 
I  hoisted  ourselves  into  the  maintop  of  King's  mill,  where  we 
could  survey  everything  with  the  good  glasses  we  always  tra- 
vel with." 

"  O,  dear  papa,  how  dangerous  ?" 

"  Dangerous !  nonsense  !  No  danger  at  all,  unless  the  mill 
had  blown  over,  and  it  was  not  a  reefing  breeze.  We  saw 
everything." 

«  Then  you  saw  Tom  Scanet's  plunge." 

"  Ay !  ay !  They  were  nearly  yardarm  and  yardarm,  when 
the  chestnut  horse  broached-to,  and  falling  aboard  of  the 
White  Horse,  sent  him  in." 

"  We  thought  we  had  lost  then,  papa,  and  that  the  accident 
might  be  fatal." 

"  Fatal !  It  did  him  good — did  him  good,  Laura.  Not  so 
much  as  if  it  had  been  salt  water,  but  some  good.  The  man 
who  jumpad  overboard  after  him  is  a  gallant  fellow,  too.  Who 
is  he?" 

"  An  American,  ray  dear  sir.     A  friend  of  Tom  Scarlet's." 

"  Ay !  ay !  a  sailor,  no  doubt.  I  knew  he  had  been  to  sea, 
by  the  way  he  hauled  Tom  up  the  west  bank.  No  landsman 
could  have  done  it.  But  you  did  not  see  the  finish,  Laura.  I 
did.  It  was  a  stern  chase,  but  Scarlet  gradually  overhauled 
the  other  just  this  side  of  Barker's  Bullfinch,  and  when  he 
ranged  alongside  he  rose  in  his  stirrups,  flourished  his  whip, 
and  gave  such  a  halloa  as  would  do  credit  to  the  best  boat- 
swain in  the  service.  '  Boarders  away  !'  said  Mainbrace  ;  and 
boarders  it  was,  for  the  White  Horse  shot  ahead  and  went 
through  the  bullfinch  like  a  thirty-two  pounder.  Those  who 
came  by  the  mill  road  said  that  the  leap  w^as  measured  and 
found  to  be  thirty-three  feet  in  the  clear." 

"  And  Mr.  Coplow,  papa!  did  you  see  him  jump  it?" 

"  Lady  Laura,  I  saw  Coplow — if  that's  his  name — brought 
up  all  standing  in  the  middle  of  it,  and  I  am  told  that  he  is 
hurt.  Still,  it  isn't  a  man  expended,  for  he  has  only  a  shoulder 
dislocated  and  a  few  bruises.     Now  I'll  go  to  my  room." 


390  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

Tom  Scarlet,  Sassafras  and  Young  Jack  soon  arrived.  They 
were  shown  into  the  room,  and,  alter  greetings  and  compli- 
ments, Tom  Scarlet  informed  Lady  Snaffle  that  Sir  Jerry  and 
the  Duke,  being  very  busy,  could  not  leave  the  Barleymow 
just  at  present,  but  would  be  there  in  the  course  of  an  hour. 
He  added  that  they  were  making  a  handicap  for  a  steeple- 
chase, to  be  run  by  the  best  twenty  horses  in  their  hunts,  and 
when  the  weights  were  satisfactory  to  the  owners  of  them,  they 
would  wait  upon  her  ladyship. 

"  And  when  do  you  think  that  will  be,  Mr.  Sassafras  ?"  said 
Lady  Snaffle,  with  a  pleasant  smile. 

"  Well,  my  lady,  about  this  time  next  year,  from  what  I 
heard  some  of  the  owners  say,"  replied  Sassafras. 

"  Sir  Jerry  and  the  Duke  told  me  they  would  be  here  in  an 
hour  after  we  arrived,  and  desired  me  to  wait  for  them,"  said 
Tom  Scarlet. 

"  I  desire  it  myself,  sir.    I  wish  to  hear  of  your  adventures." 

"  My  lady,  they  both  want  him  to  ride  for  them.  Your 
ladyship  may  depend  that's  it,"  said  Young  Jack. 

"  It  may  be  the  case ;  I  should  not  blame  them  after  what 
we  saw  to-day.  But,  Mr.  Scarlet,"  continued  Lady  Snaffle, 
"  I  find  that  you  have  not  yet  given  an  account  of  your  ad- 
ventures abroad  and  on  the  sqas,  even  to  my  dear  daughter  in 
the  church.  May  Bullfinch ;  and  now,  if  you  please,  as  your 
head  does  not  pain  you,  we  will  hear  the  narrative.  Mr. 
Sassafras,  I  delight  in  narratives  of  adventure — my  father  is  a 
sailor— reefer  at  ten  years  old  in  the  Racehorse  frigate — 
afterwards  an  admiral— Rear- Admiral  of  the  Blue !  I  believe 
you  are  a  sailor,  sir." 

"  No,  my  lady,  that's  Cox,  the  man  who  brought  the  totem 
over,"  replied  Sassafras.  "  I  did  once,  however,  go  upon  a 
trip  in  search  of  a  small  island,  near  the  Grand  Cayman, 
where  the  buccaneers  buried  a  lot  of  gold." 

"  Did  you  find  it.  Sassafras  ?"  said  Young  Jack. 

"  Well,  we  did  and  we  didn't !  We  found  the  island  as 
laid  down  by  the  bearings,  but  not  the  gold.  My  lady,  it  was 
a  sort  of  Mother  Carey's  chicken  expedition — what  you  may 
call,  Miss  Bullfinch  and  Master  Bullfinch,  a  wild-goose  chase !" 

"Mother  Carey's  chicken!  O,  yes.  May,  the  name  the 
sailors  have  given  to  the  stormy  petrel,  a  bird  never  seen  near 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  391 

the  land,  nor  in  fair  weather.  Now,  Mr.  Scarlet,  let  us  hear 
of  your  voyages  to  and  fro,  your  travels  by  land,  moving  acci- 
dents by  flood  and  field,  and  so  on." 

"  My  lady,  I've  heard  it  myself,  and  Sassafras  having  been 
engaged,  knows  it  all,"  said  Young  Jack ;  "  so  if  your  lady- 
ship will  permit  us  to  go  into  the  library,  Sassafras  can  tell 
me  about  the  expedition  after  the  hoard  of  the  buccaneers,  and 
about  Cinnamon  and  the  Sioux,  and  the  bears." 

"  Very  well.  Master  Bullfinch,  as  you  please.  I  suppose 
Mr.  Sassafras  is  too  bashful  to  hear  his  own  exploits  related 
by  his  friend  to  the  ladies." 

Young  Jack  ushered  his  American  friend  into  the  library, 
and  they  established  themselves  before  the  fire,  in  large,  high- 
backed  chairs,  lined  with  soft  green  leather.  In  about  an 
hour  Lady  Snaffle  had  heard  Tom  Scarlet's  account  of  his 
adventures,  and  leaving  him  and  May  to  discourse  of  love, 
she  proceeded  to  the  library.  She  found  Young  Jack  and 
Sassafras  engaged  in  animated  conversation,  the  former  speak- 
ing clear  and  shrill,  and  the  latter  replying  with  a  deep,  hearty 
voice.  Neither  heard  her  soft  footfall  on  the  yielding  carpet, 
and  she  could  not  help  hearing  and  being  amused  by  what  was 
said.     It  was  as  follows : 

Young  Jack. — "  Then,  as  Cinnamon  is  the  best  hunter  and 
the  boldest  warrior  that  you  have  ever  heard  of,  tell  me  what 
he  is  just  like  as  a  man.". 

Sassafras. — "  You  mean  in  appearance.  He  is  tall,  and  finely 
formed  for  strength,  activity  and  endurance,  dark  in  color  even 
for  an  Indian,  and  not  much  given  to  fine  clothes.  He  likes 
his  war-paint  best ;  and  his  is  black  and  crimson.  He  is  a 
capital  horseman." 

Young  Jack. — "  But  I  mean,  what  is  he  like  in  disposition  ?" 

Sassafras. — "  O !  Well,  he's  just  like  one  of  us — Tom  Scar- 
let and  your  father  and  me.  There's  no  diflference  between  a 
good  Indian  and  a  good  white  man  in  natural  disposition. 
They  are  alike,  but  in  different  circumstances,  and  affected  by 
different  belongings." 

Young  Jack. — "  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  the  wild  Indian 
chief  of  the  plains  and  Rocky  Mountains  is  like  my  father  ?" 

Sassafras. — In  disposition  ?  yes — very  much  like  him !  And 
in  courage,  generosity  and  simple  nobility  of  character  he'a 


392  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

just  like  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  and  this  Duke.  Now,  don't  go  and 
tell  Lady  Snaffle  I  said  this,  for  I  want  her  good  opinion,  and 
ladies  are  naturally  prejudiced  against  Indians  from  hearing 
that  the  warriors  maltreat  their  wives.  It  isn't  the  real  truth  ; 
but  then  there's  a  color  for  the  assertion,  especially  as  regards 
the  bands  who  loaf  about  the  settlements  and  get  drunk." 

Lady  Snaffle  was  about  to  come  forward  and  speak,  but 
Young  Jack  went  on  with  great  animation. 

Young  Jack. — "  You  will,  of  course,  tell  Cinnamon  all  about 
us,  when  you  and  he  arrange  for  the  presents  to  be  sent  over  ?" 

Sassafras. — "  Oh,  he's  heard  about  the  most  prominent.  The 
chief  understands  a  hundred  times  as  much  English  as  he  can 
speak,  and  he  heard  Tom  Scarlet  and  Frangois  talking  by  the 
hour  about  your  sister  and  your  father  and  Sir  Jerry  and  Lady 
Snaffle." 

Young  Jack. — "And  about  me,  too?" 

Sassafras. — "  No  doubt  you  were  mentioned  ;  but,  you  see, 
the  Indians  think  nothing  of  a  boy  until  he  has  killed  an  elk, 
a  bear  or  a  buffalo,  or  drawn  blood  from  a  man.  But  he'll 
hear  a  good  deal  about  you  when  I  meet  him  again,  and  as 
Miriam's  your  staunch  friend,  she'll  fix  the  chief  for  you  when 
she  sees  him." 

Young  Jack. — "  Ay !  but  the  mention  of  me  to  the  chief 
will  come  best,  in  the  first  place,  from  you.  Sassafras,  because 
you  were  on  the  war-path  with  him  against  the  Sioux.  But 
now  tell  me — as  Cinnamon  has  heard  about  Sir  Jerry  and 
Lady  Snaffle — let  me  know  what  he  thinks  about  my  lady. 
He  may  be  a  little  prejudiced,  too,  you  know." 

Sassafras. — "The  d — 1  a  bit.  Young  Jack!  I  never  heard 
him  say  v;hat  he  thinks  of  her.  I  dare  say  nobody  else  ever 
did.  It  is  not  his  custom  to  speak  of  such  things.  He's  a 
man  of  few  words,  very  few." 

Young  Jack. — "  I  know !  like  Mr.  Southdown — but  he  talks 
as  much  as  anybody  else  when  he  feels  inclined,  and  is  no  way 
backward  of  giving  his  mind  about  other  people." 

Sassafras. — "  I  never  heard  Cinnamon  say  anything  of  Lady 
Snaffle,  but  I  can  tell  well  enough  what  he  thinks  of  her. 
She  is  to  him  just  about  what  the  Queen  Adelaide  of  England 
is  to  the  chiefs  and  head  men  of  the  tribes  north  of  the  Cana- 
dian line.  He  pictures  her  as  something  great,  beautiful  and 
good ;  and  he's  right !" 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  393 

The  lady  had  heard  too  much  to  speak  now,  and  yet  she 
couki  not  retreat.  A  blush  of  pleasure,  but  something  of  em- 
barrassment mingled  with  it,  mantled  on  her  cheeks  and  tinged 
her  neck.  She  knew  not  what  to  do,  and  the  conversation  be- 
tween the  others  went  on. 

Young  Jack. — "  I  may  tell  her  ladyship  what  you  say  about 
that  Sassafras." 

Sassafras. — "  No  !  no  !  not  on  any  account ;  but  it's  all  true, 
though." 

Young  Jack. — "  I  will  tell  May." 

Sassafras. — "  We  will  compromise  this  matter.  You  shall 
tell  your  sister  after  I  am  gone.  If  you  must  tell  somebody 
before  then,  tell  Tom  Scarlet  and  Miriam." 

Young  Jack. — "  What's  the  use  of  that,  when  they  know  it 
already  ?  But  now  as  to  those  presents — I  am  not  to  be  for- 
gotten." 

Sassafras. — "  O,  no  !     You  shall  be  remembered." 
Young  Jack. — "  A  pair  of  elks  for   Sir  Jerry  and   Lady 
Snaffle;  another  pair  for  the  Duke  and  Duchess;  a  buffalo 
bull  and  cow  for  my  father ;  but  the  bear,  the  great  grizzly 
bear,  is  to  be  sent  to  me  ?     Remember  that.  Sassafras." 

Sassafras. — "  The  elk  and  the  buffalo  will  be  all  right.  We 
could  send  a  small  drove  of  each,  upon  a  pinch,  if  there  was 
ship  room.  But  a  great  grizzly  bear  is  an  ugly  customer 
aboard,  and  the  cotton  ships  roll  so.  I'm  thinking  that  you 
had  better  have  a  cinnamon  bear.  It's  more  rare,  more  hand- 
some, and,  I  reckon,  more  of  a  curiosity  in  natural  history." 
Young  Jack  (with  discontent  and  vexation). — "  Sassafras,  a 
cinnamon  bear  won't  do  for  me.  I  don't  want  a  handsome 
bear.  I  don't  care  about  natural  history.  I  read  the  natural 
history  of  this  country,  and  a  good  deal  of  it  is  all  humbug. 
I  want  a  great  grizzly  bear,  like  the  one  you  and  Cinnamon 
killed  at  the  pass  of  the  Rocky  Mountains." 

Sassafras. — "  I  see  you  know  it  all.  Master  Bullfinch.  AVell, 
Cinnamon  and  I  must  have  a  pow-wow  over  it,  and  by  bring- 
ing in  Pierre  Langlois  and  his  agents  at  Orleans,  I  dare  say  it 
can  be  done." 

Youiu  Jack. — "  Thank  you.  Sassafras.  And  if  you  want  to 
send  over  any  animal  for  its  beauty,  send  it  to  Meg  South- 
down.    A  very  nice  girl.  Sassafras — she  nearly  fell  out  of  the 


394  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

windmill  to-day,  while  lookiDg  at  Tom's  riding.  And,  Sassa- 
fras, there  is  one  thing  more  I  want  to  say." 

Sassafras. — "  Very  well,  say  it !  I  like  to  hear  you  talk." 

Young  Jack — "  \Vheu  you  are  married  to  Miriam,  and  have 
reached  your  plantation  at  St.  Jo.,  she  will  be  four  or  five 
thousand  miles  from  all  her  relatives  and  old  acquaintances 
and  friends.  But  we  shall  be  glad  for  all  that,  Sassafras  ;  be- 
cause we  shall  know  that,  come  what,  come  may,  you  will 
always  love  her  and  cherish  her.  Miriam  has  always  been  a 
good  girl.     I  know  the  gypsies  well,  and  I  am  sure  of  it." 

Sassafras  (red  in  face,  and  with  lightning  in  the  eyes). — "  O, 
Young  Jack  !  there's  more  gold  in  your  heart  than  the  bucca- 
neers buried  near  the  Grand  Cayman.  O,  my  boy!  you  shall 
have  the  big  bear,  if  I'm  obliged  to  come  over  to  bring  him  my- 
self!" 

The  Western  man  grappled  the  English  lad  to  him  with  a 
Bort  of  fond  hug,  and  as  he  did  so  Lady  Snaffle  retreated 
towards  the  door.  Sassafras  rose,  and  began  to  apologize, 
although  he  did  not  know  for  what.  But  the  lady  then  came 
forward  with  a  smile,  as  though  she  had  but  lately  entered, 
and  extending  her  hand  said :  "  I  have  heard  of  your  gal- 
lantry.    May  I,  too,  call  you  friend  ?" 

It  is  very  likely  that  Sassafras  felt  more  overcome  just  then 
than  he  had  ever  done  at  the  warwhoop  of  the  Sioux  and 
Blackfeet ;  for  even  Young  Jack  was  either  unable  to  understand 
what  he  said  in  reply  to  the  baronet's  lady,  or  he  had,  when 
questioned  by  his  sister  May  and  by  Miriam  Cotswold,  unac- 
countably forgotten  it. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

■  We  were  very,  very  merry, 
As  we  went  to  the  ferry, 
For  all  our  men  were  drinking  j 
There  were  three  men  of  mine, 
Two  of  thine,  and  three  more 
Men  were  belonging 
To  old  Sir  Thorn  of  Lyne, 
And  all  our  men  were  drinking.' 


WHEN  the  company  at  the  Barleymow  broke  up  on  the 
evening  of  the  day  on  which  the  steeple-chase  was  run, 
not  a  few  of  them  were  in  case  to  sing  the  old  catch  quoted 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  395 

above.  Still,  they  were  steady  on  their  legs  and  in  their  sad- 
dles, for  the  sportsmen  and  three-bottle  men  of  that  age  were 
not  easily  shaken.  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  was  accompanied  to  the 
Hall  by  the  Duke  of  Jumpover,  Sir  Harry  Plowden  and  Major 
Fitzgerald.  Lord  Doomsday  excused  himself;  but  from  John 
Bullfinch  and  Mr.  Southdown,  old  and  opulent  tenants  of  his 
own,  and  freeholders  in  their  own  right,  the  Baronet  would 
take  no  denial.  Lady  Snaffle  received  them,  and  the  Duke, 
advancing,  said  :  "  I  am  requested,  by  many  gentlemen,  to 
thank  your  ladyship  for  honoring  us  with  your  presence  at  the 
steeple-chase  to-day.  We  were  all  much  gratified.  The  pres- 
ence of  the  ladies  on  such  occasions  is  always  appreciated." 

"  The  ladies,  your  Grace,  are  pleased  with  the  sports  in 
which  our  countrymen  delight  and  excel.  At  steeple-chases 
there  are  few,  for  but  a  small  part  of  them  is  usually  to  be 
seen.  On  the  flat,  however,  we  take  the  field  in  force ;  and 
while  we  rejoice  in  the  success  of  our  favorites,  our  regrets 
do  not  last  very  long  when  they  lose.  I  was  never  before  so 
excited  as  on  this  occasion.  At  one  time  Miss  Bullfinch  and 
I  wished  ourselves  away.  At  the  brook  it  was  a  fearful  scene 
for  a  few  moments,  and  we  feared  the  worst,  my  Lord  Duke ; 
but  in  the  instant  of  great  peril  we  saw  Mr.  Scarlet  rescued 
by  the  strength  and  skill  of  his  friend  here.  It  was  grand, 
but  terrible." 

"  It  was,  my  lady ;  and  no  one  rejoiced  in  the  safety  of  Mr. 
Scarlet  more  than  I,"  said  the  Duke  ;  "  but  I  hardly  bargained 
for  the  defeat  of  my  horse  afterwards.  The  presence  of  mind, 
judgment  and  resolution  of  Mr.  Scarlet,  displayed  after  the 
accident,  equalled  the  daring  of  his  friend  at  the  moment  of 
his  danger." 

"  And  were  a  good  deal  more  difficult  to  command,  your 
grace,"  said  Sassafras. 

"  I  dare  say  they  were,  for  I  understand  feats  of  daring  and 
perilous  adventure  have  been  frequent  with  you.  Mr.  Scar- 
let's splendid  riding  at  the  finish  routed  me.  All  is  lost  but 
honor,  Lady  Snaffle.  I  have  lost  the  stakes  to  Sir  Jerry,  a 
hogshead  of  Burgundy  to  Major  Fitzgerald  and  a  hundred 
ounces  of  gold  to  Sassafras." 

"  But  not  your  good  humor,  duke,"  said  the  major.  "  Now 
there  is  a  party  from  Melton  gone  ofi"  in  the  sulks  on  account 


396  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

of  two  hundred  guineas  I  won  of  him.  He  had  said  some- 
thing about  the  bad  taste  of  gentlemen  acting  as  stewards  who 
had  bets  on  the  event,  and  but  for  Sir  Jerry  I  should  have 
requested  him  to  explain  what  he  meant,  in  which  case  an  invi- 
tation to  a  morning  walk  in  one  of  the  sequestered  glades  of 
Wootton  woods  might  have  followed.  But  'twas  a  glorious 
day,  my  lady ;  a  Waterloo  for  our  hunt.  I  would  have  lost 
my  other  arm  sooner  than  have  missed  it." 

"  A  loss  we  could  not  afford,  major,"  said  Lady  Snaffle. 
"  What  would  the  ladies  do  if  you  had  no  'longer  an  arm  to 
offer?" 

"  Your  ladyship  is  right,  as  you  always  are.  I  need  it  for 
the  service  of  the  ladies,  and  for  the  reaching  of  me  glass  of 
wine  or  punch." 

There  had  been  some  general  conversation,  during  which 
Mr.  Southdown  and  Young  Jack  had  got  Sassafras  a  little  on 
one  side,  and  were  putting  questions  touching  bufialo  bulls, 
bears  and  Indians,  when  Lady  Snaffle  crossed  to  Sir  Jerry  and 
said  something  in  a  low  tone. 

"By  all  means!     It  is  kind  and  proper,"  said  the  baronet. 

Lady  Snaffle  turned  to  Sassafras  and  said :  "  There  is  a 
young  person  I  should  like  to  see  soon — this  evening,  if  pos- 
sible. I  mean  Miriam  Cotswold.  If  she  is  at  hand,  with  your 
permission,  I  will  send  for  her." 

"  My  lady,  she  was  on  the  road,  in  a  gig,  with  her  uncle," 
said  Young  Jack.  "  The  camp  is  in  the  hollow,  close  to  Sir 
Jerry's  ash  spinney." 

"  I  am  grateful  to  your  ladyship,"  said  Sassafras.  "  A  few 
words  of  counsel  and  encouragement  from  your  ladyship  will 
cheer  her  and  do  her  good." 

"  Then  I  will  send  John." 

"  If  your  ladyship  please,"  said  Young  Jack,  loud  and  brisk, 
"  it  will  be  better  to  send  me.  The  gypsies  do  not  know  John, 
and  he  does  not  know  them.  I  know  them  all,  men,  women, 
lasses  and  children — from  Dark  Janet's  mother  to  Rose  Tan- 
ner's twins." 

There  was  a  laugh  from  the  gentlemen  and  Lady  Snaffle 
smiled.  The  man  of  few  words  rose  with  much  gravity,  and 
standing  at  his  full  height,  with  his  great  bulk  displayed,  he 
prepared  to  address  her  ladyship.    At  any  other  time  he  would 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO N.  397 

not  have  ventured  upon  a  speech  to  her,  but  he  had  virtually 
nominated  Sir  Jerry  for  the  county,  and  what  was  more  he  had 
imbibed  a  great  many  glasses  of  gin  and  water  at  the  Barley- 
mow. 

"My  lady,"  said  Mr.  Southdown,  "  the  gentlemen  laughed 
at  what  Young  Jack  said,  but  it  is  really  no  laughing  matter. 
Among  the  gypsies  there  are  some  rum  customers,  as  the  keep- 
ers and  constables  find.  Now,  Young  Jack  knows  them  all, 
and  he  is  a  good  boy.  Sassafras,  my  lady,  a  man  of  large  ex- 
perience in  boys  and  what  not,  agrees  with  me  in  this." 

Her  ladyship  bowed,  and  looked  archly  at  the  Duke,  then 
with  a  smile  at  May  Bullfinch  and  Tom  Scarlet.  The  latter 
was  rather  red  in  the  face,  and  John  Bullfinch  had  attempted 
to  pull  Mr.  Southdown  back.  But  the  man  of  few  words  stood 
like  a  tower,  and  went  on  : 

"  I  say,  my  lady,  that  Jack's  suggestion  is  good,  and  it  isn't 
the  first  time  that  one  of  the  Bullfinches  has  aided  this  house 
in  council  or  battle.  On  the  monument  to  the  four  baronets 
of  this  family  who  were  killed  in  the  wars  of  the  Koses,  it  is 
stated  that  when  they  mar^-hed  to  battle  along  with  the  stout 
Earl  of  Warwdck,  the  Bullfinches  always  Vvent  with  'em  hun- 
dreds strong." 

"Southdown,  you  are  right ;  the  family  is  as  old  as  my  own 
in  the  county,"  said  Sir  Jerry. 

"  I  know^  I'm  right ;  my  mind's  made  up  on  the  p'int,  your 
honor.  If  it  was  not,  I  should  not  venture  to  go  on  in  this 
way  to  her  ladyship.  The  Bullfinches  being  of  a  good  old 
family,  and  John  being  a  tenant  of  Sir  Jerry's,  as  well  as  hold- 
ing his  own  farm  of  Hawk'ell,  when  May  was  christened  your 
ladyship  stood  godmother  to  her.  When  Young  Jack  was 
christened  I  stood  godfeyther  to  him.  A  year  after  that  my 
youngest  daater,  Meg " 

"  Margery,  Mr.  Southdow^n,  a  beautiful  old  English  name," 
said  Lady  Snaffle. 

"  Yes,  her  mother  and  sisters  call  her  Margery,  but  1  call 
her  Meg,  my  lady,  and  so  does  Young  Jack.  When  Meg  was 
christened,  John  Bullfinch  stood  godfeyther  to  her.  Well,  my 
lady  and  gentlemen  all,  what  naturally  follows  ?  Sassafras, 
as  good  a  man  as  ever  put  boot  in  stirrup,  means  to  marry 
Miriam  Cotswold.  Tom  Scarlet,  another  out-and-out  good  man, 
means  to " 


398  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

Lady  Snaffle  interposed  and  prevented  the  grazier  from  com- 
pleting the  sentence. 

"  Well,  then,  my  lady,"  said  he,  "  I'll  come  to  the  real  p'int. 
Here's  Young  Jack  !  as  good  a  boy  as  ever  was — capital  rider, 
and  the  best  judge  of  the  p'ints  of  a  horse  or  a  bullock,  of  his 
age,  in  these  Midland  counties.  They  may  have  boys  in  Lun- 
non  who  know  more,  or  in  Oxford  college." 

"  Sir,  they  have  got  none  who  know  any  more  anywhere, 
except  aboard  the  men-of-war,"  said  the  Admiral,  stalking  in 
with  Mainbrace  in  close  attendance.  "  My  sentiments  on  this 
subject  are  well  known  to  my  daughter,  Lady  Snaffle,  also  to 
Sir  Jerry,  whose  father  went  to  sea  at  fourteen  in  the  Sea- 
horse.    I  was  ten." 

"Very  well.  Admiral  and  my  lady,  and  gentlemen  all, 
Young  Jack  being  an  excellent  boy — pattern  to  the  youth  of 
the  country  side,  and  a  real  good  bred  'un,  and  my  youngest 
daater  Meg  being  a  good  girl,  comely  lass,  and  so  on,  my  mind's 
made  up.  -John  BuUiineh's  mind's  made  up.  So  is  my  wife's. 
If  your  ladyship  has  no  objection,  when  the  young  people 
come  to  years  of — of  what  you  call  it " 

"  Discretion,"  said  Young  Jack. 

"Ay,  to  years  of  discretion,  their  minds  will  be  made  up." 

Lady  Snaffle  shook  Mr.  Southdown's  hand  and  patted  Young 
Jack  on  the  head,  whereupon  the  grazier  said,  "  I  was  agoing 
to  say  something  touching  the  wedding  between " 


"Meg  and  me?"  said  Young  Jack. 

"  No,  between  May  and  Tom  Scarlet,  who " 

Mr.  Southdown  was  here  interrupted  by  John  Bullfinch, 
and  he  concluded  somewhat  abruptly  by  recommending  that 
Young  Jack  should  be  sent  for  Miriam. 

"  And  for  company's  sake,  if  Lady  Snaffle  pleases,  I  will  go 
with  him,"  said  Sassafras. 

"  A  moment,"  said  the  Duke.  "  When  you  return  from  the 
camp  I  shall  be  gone.  Before  you  leave  England  I  should 
like  to  show  you  my  horses  and  hounds.  Visit  me.  I  will 
mount  you  well.  Do  you  know  that  you  are  unlike  the  Amer- 
icans of  books  and  of  the  stage  ?" 

"  Duke,  I  never  met  a  man  in  America,  or  anywhere  else, 
who  was  not  unlike  them,  and  Tom  Scarlet  will  say  the  same," 
replied  Sassafras.     "  That  which  I  have  seen  in  books  and  on 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  399 

the  stage,  as  the  language  and  manners  of  Americans  at  home 
is  just  about  as  much  like  them  as  what  goes  on  in  the  Punch 
and  Judy  show  is  like  life  as  I  see  it  here  in  England.  Be- 
sides, there  is  fun  in  the  Punch  and  Judy,  but  none  in  this 
kind  of  books  and  acting." 

"  I  suspect  you  are  right  in  that." 

"  If  your  Grace  and  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle  could  visit  America 
and  join  me  at  St.  Jo.,  we  might  have  fine  sport  among  the  elk 
and  buffalo,  to  say  nothing  of  the  bears,  which  are  large  and 
fierce.  With  Cinnamon  and  some  of  his  young  men  for  guides 
and  escort,  we  could  hunt  the  parks  of  the  E,ocky  Mountains, 
and  shoot  where  a  white  man  has  hardly  ever  fired  a  rifle 
shot." 

«  I  thank  you.  Sassafras,"  said  the  Duke.  "  The  offer  is  a 
tempting  one,  but  we  should  find  it  almost  impossible  to  spare 
the  time.  Visit  me  if  you  can,  and  be  assured  I  shall  always 
wish  you  well." 

After  a  drive  of  four  or  five  miles  in  one  of  Sir  Jerry 
Snaffle's  numerous  vehicles.  Sassafras  and  Young  Jack  drew 
up  near  the  camp.  The  tents  were  pitched  and  the  fires  were 
blazing  brightly  in  a  sheltered  glen,  bounded  on  one  side  by  a 
thick  growth  of  young  ash  trees,  on  the  other  by  clumps  of 
gorse.  Sassafras  jumped  out,  and  at  the  same  moment  two  or 
three  young  gypsies,  the  scouts  of  the  tribe,  came  out  of  the 
fern  and  underwood  and  saluted  him  with  a  sort  of  shy  defer- 
ence as  he  passed  on  towards  the  tent  of  their  chief. 

About  half  an  hour  later  he  reached  the  Hall  with  Miriam 
and  Young  Jack.  Lady  Snaffle's  footman  received  them,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  her  maid  advanced  to  conduct  Sassafras  and 
Miriam  to  her  ladyship's  cabinet.  The  lady's  maid  was  a 
brunette,  rather  small,  but  with  a  well-rounded  and  graceful 
figure,  handsome  features,  and  deep,  black  eyes.  She  was  a 
favorite  of  Lady  Snaffle's.  In  fact,  this  young  girl  had  been 
brought  up  at  the  Hall.  Her  grandfather,  a  sailor,  who  had 
married  a  Spanish  girl  in  the  Indies,  had  been  killed  at  the 
battle  of  the  Nile.  The  widow  and  her  daughter  found 
refuge  on  the  Admiral's  estate  when  Lady  Snaffle  was  a  girl. 
The  daughter  married  one  of  the  Admiral's  coxswains,  a 
younger  man  than  Maiubrace,  and  Miss  Kitty  Puffle  was  their 
child.    What  passed  in  Lady  Snaffle's  cabinet  in  the  presence 


400  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

of  May  BullfiDch,  Miriam  Cotswold  and  Sassafras,  the  lady's 
maid  did  not  know.  Slie  assured  the  hou.sekeeper,  the  cook 
and  the  butler,  however,  that  the  interview  must  have  been 
very  touching  as  well  as  long,  for  when  Sassafras  and  Miriam 
came  out  it  was  plain  that  she  had  been  crying.  She  was 
then,  however,  calm  again,  and  looking  very  well  content  and 
happy.  "And  the  American,"  Miss  Ruffle  continued,  "looked 
very  much  pleased.  As  indeed  he  ought  to  be.  for  he  will 
have  the  countenance  of  my  lady  in  marrying,  he  owns  an 
estate  of  hundreds  of  acres  in  America — thousands,  Master 
Bullfinch  says — and  he  has  won  a  hundred  ounces  of  gold 
from  the  Duke." 

"  Then,  miss,  he  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  himself,"  said  the 
butler. 

Later  in  the  evening  Lady  Snaffle  inquired  of  Sir  Jerry 
where  he  had  left  her  father.  "  My  lady,"  said  Sir  Jerry, 
"  the  Admiral  has  left  me,  and  taken  the  Major  with  him. 
He  sent  for  the  tojDman  Cooper,  and  the  sailor  Cox,  and  is 
now  in  his  room  expounding  the  rules  of  the  service  and 
fighting  the  Battle  of  Trafalgar  over  a  huge  bowl  of  rum- 
punch  compounded  by  his  man." 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

"Through  the  house  give  glimmering  light. 
By  the  dead  and  drowsy  fire, 
Every  elf  and  fairy  sprite 

Hop  as  light  as  bird  from  brier." 

"Thus  passeth  yere  by  yere,  and  day  by  dav. 
Till  it  fell  once,  in  a  morne  of  May." 

"When  the  merry  bells  ring  round, 
And  the  jockund  rebecks  sound 
To  many  a  youth  and  many  a  maid 
Dancing  in  the  chequer'd  shade." 

ONCE  again  stout  John  Bullfinch  sat  in  his  great  arm- 
chair, alone,  near  the  middle  watch  of  the  night.  His 
daughter,  May,  the  good,  the  fond,  the  bright,  the  beautiful, 
was  to  be  married  the  next  day,  and  John  was  full  of  thought 
and  reflection.     He  recalled  all  the  stages  of  her  growth  and 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  401 

being,  from  infancy  and  prattling,  toddling  childhood  to  that 
very  hour — that  budding  hour  of  womauhood,  when  she  was 
so  like  her  mother,  as  he  had  courted  and  married  her  more 
than  twenty  years  before.  The  same  sweet  face  and  wealth  of 
clustering  hair ;  the  same  lithe,  rounded  figure ;  the  same  glad 
and  kind  disposition.  The  fire  had  dwindled  low  upon  the 
hearth,  and  all  was  still.  The  great  mastiff.  Fury,  sat  upon 
her  haunches,  and  with  her  deep-set  eyes  looked  up  into  her 
master's  face,  as  though  she  knew  they  were  about  to  part  with 
the  Rose  of  Hawk'ell — the  one  fair  daughter  of  the  brave  old 
house.  She  put  her  head  upon  the  farmer's  knee,  and  when 
the  clock  struck  twelve  uttered  a  low  growl,  as  if  to  protest 
against  the  interruption  of  the  solemn  silence.  Soon  she  rose 
^nd  walked  gravely  and  silently  to  the  door.  The  farmer,  follow- 
ing, opened  it.  The  light  of  the  May  moon  and  the  song  of  the 
nightingale  from  the  bosky  blackthorn  grove  came  rushing 
into  the  house.  A  step  was  heard,  and  then  John  Bullfinch 
saw  the  erect  form  of  the  keeper,  as  he  came  along  by  the 
hawthorn  hedge. 

"  Dick,  this  is  kind,  very  kind  and  thoughtful !"  said  John, 
as  they  passed  into  the  house. 

"  I  thought,"  said  Moleskin,  putting  his  gun  gently  down, 
"that  you  might  not  object  to  see  an  old  friend  of  the  family 
to-night.     To-morrow  there  will  be  many  people  here." 

"  Nobody  who'll  be  more  welcome  than  you,  Dick." 

The  keeper  shook  John's  hand,  and  there  was  a  curious 
movement  of  the  muscles  about  the  mouth  and  at  the  corners 
of  his  eyes,  as  if  the  cast-irou  visage  was  being  acted  on  by 
the  heat  and  glow  within. 

"  Having  made  my  rounds  and  found  all  reasonably  safe," 
said  he,  "  I  determined  to  walk  over  here.  I  never  sleep  'o 
nights.  When  you  go  to  bed  I  shall  keep  ward  here,  and  can 
call  you  betimes  for  the  preparations  of  the  morning." 

"  I  have  no  inclination  for  bed,"  said  John.  "  I  have  been 
sitting  here  listening  to  the  ticking  of  the  clock,  and  thinking 
of  all  May's  life  and  pretty  ways,  and  what  she  has  been  to 
me,  and  everybody  else  in  this  house,  since  the  sad  day  I  lost 
her  mother.  You  know  she  is  just  like  her  mother ;  and  it 
almost  seems  as  if  I  was  going  to  lose  her  over  again.  Yet 
26 


402  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

there's  no  reason  to  doubt  May's  happiness  with  Tom  Scarlet, 
is  there  ?" 

"  None  at  all.  My  opinion  is,  that  they'll  be  very  happy. 
She  has  that  winning  way  with  her  that'll  always  prevail 
with  him ;  and  mark  my  words,  John,  she'll  rule  her  hus- 
band !     Therefore,  they'll  be  very  happy." 

"  Sir,"  said  John,  "  you  speak  like  an  ignorant  old  bachelor." 

"  Very  likely.  I  tell  you  I  conclude  that  happy  will  be 
their  lot,  from  the  fact  that  she'll  rule  him.  The  lightest 
touch  on  the  bridle  and  he'll  obey  the  bit.  No  more  saunter- 
ing and  dawdling  along  by  the  cover  sides  o'  moonlight  nights 
when  the  leverets  play  and  the  pheasants  crow  upon  the 
larches.  No  going  out  w'ith  Gypsy  Jack  and  Rose  Tanner's 
man  to  dig  out  badgers.  No  more  goings  off  to  America* 
without  so  much  as  by  your  leave.  Still,  I  can  understand' 
your  feelings.  She  will  be  looked  up  to  hereafter  more  as 
Tom's  wife  than  your  daater.  The  preserve  is  poached  into, 
you  see.  On  the  other  hand  we  may  say,  *  A  mantrap  has  gone 
off,  and  he's  caught  for  life.'    That's  how  things  stand,  eh  ?" 

"  Another  time  I  should  have  been  angry,"  said  John. 
"  Mantrap !" 

"  If  you  could  get  into  a  passion  and  blo'V  somebody  up 
sky-high,  it  would  do  you  good,"  said  the  keeper.  "  Where's 
Young  Jack  ?" 

"  He  went  up-stairs  with  May.  They  went  hand  in  hand," 
replied  John.  "  I  heard  them  talking  since,  and  was  twice  at 
the  stair-foot,  softly.  I  wouldn't  have  stopped  them  in  their 
conversation  for  the  world.  It  was  all  about  me,  Dick.  The 
boy  mentioned  Tom,  once  or  twice,  as  near  as  I  could  make 
out,  but  May's  talk  was  of  her  father  ?" 

"  It  was  natural,"  said  the  keeper.  "  She  is  about  to  leave 
you,  in  a  measure ;  and  her  heart  clings  to  her  father,  though 
she  is  about  to  have  a  husband  to  cleave  to.  Then  a  woman 
can  have  but  one  father ;  whereas,  though  I  dare  say  it  never 
occurred  to  May,  she  may  have  two  or  three  husbands  before 
she  has  done." 

"  If  you  talk  like  that  I  would  prefer  to  be  alone  again," 
said  John. 

"  Sitting  here  all  alone,  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  has  not 
been  good  for  you,"  said  Moleskin.  "  It  has  made  you  mel- 
ancholy." 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  403 

"  Serious,  but  uot  melancholy,"  replied  John.  "  It  did  not 
appear  to  me  that  I  was  alone.  My  children  were  above-stairs, 
and  I  felt  as  though  the  spirit  of  their  mother,  my  wife,  was 
near — come  back  to  comfort  me,  and  be  as  a  guardian  angel 
to  her  daughter  at  this  time.  You  will  think  this  a  strange 
fancy  of  mine,  but  I  had  it  strong." 

"  Not  so  strange,"  replied  Moleskin.  "  I  am  myself  a  lonely 
man,  and  pass  many  nights  in  the  still  woods  or  over  the  em- 
bers in  the  solitary  lodge ;  yet  it  often  seems  at  such  times  that 
I  am  not  all  alone.  Considering  what  a  good  woman — one 
of  ten  thousand — your  wife  was,  and  how  she  loved  you  and 
her  children  with  all  her  heart,  I  think  that  at  this  time  she 
may  be  near." 

There  was  a  silence  of  some  minutes  after  this,  broken  by 
John  Bullfinch : 

"  You  mustn't  leave  the  house  in  the  morning.  There  will 
be  people  enough  about,  but  I  want  you  and  Ransome ;  he  is 
to  be  here  to  breakfast.  Southdown  will  not  come  so  early, 
but  his  wife  and  daughters  will  drive  over  betimes,  to  take 
charge  of  May.     Mrs.  Hickman  and  Mary  will  also  be  here." 

"  I  have  come  to  stay,"  said  the  keeper.  "  My  best  things 
are  in  the  pockets  of  this  shooting-coat,  and  ten  minutes  in 
your  room  will  be  all  I  shall  want.  But  now  about  Tom — 
how  does  he  seem  to  stand  it?" 

"  Wonderful !  wonderful !"  said  John.  "  He  was  here  till 
ten,  and  would  have  stayed  till  now,  mayhap,  if  he  had  had 
his  own  way.  He's  very  cool  and  pleasant,  and  not  at  all 
bashful." 

"  He  never  was,  that  I  know  of,"  said  the  keeper. 

"  Yes,  he  was ;  not  in  a  general  way,  but  I  remember  when 
he  would  sit  and  look  at  May,  and  have  never  a  word  to  say 
to  her,  though  he  could  talk  glib  enough  to  me.  I  think  he's 
a  little  disappointed,  because  Sassafras  couldn't  stay.  I  would 
give  a  twenty-pound  ijote  myself  to  have  him  here." 

"  To  my  mind,  he's  just  as  well  away,"  said  Moleskin.  ''The 
man  himself  is  a  good  man,  straightforward  in  manner  and 
{action — word  as  good  as  bond  ;  but " 

"But  w^hat,  sir?  I  like  the  man,  and  you  had  better  not 
let  Southdown  hear  you  say  anything  against  him.  If  you 
do,  you'll  find  that  his  mind  is  made  up." 


404  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WO  OTTO  K. 

"  The  man  himself  is  a  man  I  would  trust  anywhere,"  said 
Moleskin,  "  even  in  the  best  preserves  in  October,  though  he's 
a  dead  shot,  and  could  cut  a  pheasant  down  with  a  rifle  ball 
off  the  tallest  roost,  every  time ;  but  I  can't  answer  for  some 
of  his  cronies.  As  long  as  he  was  here  I  had  little  rest. 
Gypsies,  roving  sailors,  and  other  fellows,  whose  presence 
bodes  no  good  to  the  health  of  the  game,  were  always  straying 
about.  Out  of  respect  for  Sir  Jerry  and  you,  and  considering 
that  he  was  well  liked  by  the  ladies,  I  said  nothing ;  but  that 
gypsy  camp  was  here  too  long  at  one  time.  Then  that  Cox 
and  Jim  Cooper,  instead  of  going  off  to  blue-water  and  stay- 
ing there,  as  they  promised  to  do,  they  comes  to  an  anchor,  as 
they  called  it,  in  this  neighborhood,  and  got  three  or  four 
more  like  themselves,  drinking  and  skylarking,  and  setting  a 
bad  example  generally.  When  the  American  went  the  whole 
covey  took  wing.  The  American  was  well  enough.  I  liked 
him.  He  had  a  very  true  eye,  and  the  proper  insight  into  the 
ways  of  birds  and  animals ;  but  he  was  not  up  to  the  nature 
of  our  English  scamps." 

"It  could  hardly  be  expected,"  said  John.  "He  associated 
with  no  one,  to  speak  of,  except  Tom  and  Southdown,  and  you 
and  me." 

"  Didn't  he !  I  say  that  when  occasion  offered,  or  chance 
threw  them  in  his  way,  he  was  well  met  by  every  poacher, 
fighter  and  loose-liver  in  these  parts.  I  never  told  you  of  the 
supper  they  gave  him  at  the  Running  Horse,  over  by  Heyford 
Leys.  I  have  it  from  Lord  Jersey's  keeper  that  every  known 
scamp  in  Buckinghamshire,  Oxfordshire,  Northamj^tonshire 
and  Warwickshire  was  present.  That  fellow  Tom  Barton  had 
come  up  from  Warwickshire  Avith  one  Ford,  who  has  been  in 
America — known  |X)acher3  both,  as  the  keepers  of  the  Duke 
of  Grafton  and  Lord  Southampton  are  well  aware.  After 
being  introduced  to  Sassafras,  this  fellow  Barton  proposed  that 
they  should  do  honor  to  the  Crown  an^  to  Major  Fitzgerald 
and  the  Admiral,  by  being  presided  over  by  the  Army  and 
Navy.  So  they  put  the  recruiting  sergeant  of  the  Fusileers 
into  the  cheer.  If  he  had  only  enlisted  the  company  there 
and  then,  it  would  have  been  a  good  thing.  Jim  Tanner  was 
vice-president,  and  the  fun  was  fast  and  furious.  The  fact  is 
they  drank  everything  the  landlord  had  in  the  house,  and  at 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK  405 

break  of  day  brought  off  a  little  battle,  for  a  sovereign  a  side, 
between  two  of  the  Serjeant's  new  recruits.  The  keeper  at 
Middleton  says  that,  next  to  the  American,  the  most  respect- 
able man  in  the  room  was  Jack  Cotswold." 

"  Wasn't  Tom  Scarlet  present  ?"  said  John. 

"  He  was  not.  You'll  observe  that  since  his  engagement  to 
your  daughter  was  made  public,  and  the  wedding  generally 
spoken  of,  he  has  been  at  your  house  every  night." 

"  It  is  true,"  said  John,  rising.  "  Now,  Dick,  I'll  go  to  bed. 
Call  me,  softly,  at  break  of  day." 

"  Break  of  day  will  be  here  in  no  time." 

"  The  sooner  the  better.  Call  me  at  the  earliest  flushing  of 
the  dawn." 

Morning  bright  and  beautiful !  A  flitting  up  and  down  of 
beauties  just  as  bright,  about  the  young  bride's  chamber.  Mrs. 
Southdown  and  her  two  eldest  daughters  had  arrived  in  fine 
array.  Mrs.  Hickman  and  pretty  Mary  had  come  in  brave 
attire.  And  there  were  other  ladies  and  young  maidens, 
pretty  and  fluttering,  talking  in  hasty  half  whisperings.  The 
toilet  of  the  bride  began.  One  of  Sir  Jerry  Snafiie's  carriages 
drove  up  and  the  housekeeper  and  lady's  maid  stepped  out  of 
it.  The  old  lady,  stifl'  and  stately  in  brocade,  curtesied  with 
antique  ceremony  to  the  other  ladies  as  she  entered  the  bride's 
room.  Miss  Ruflle  miuced  daintily  in,  and  with  sparkling 
eyes  surveyed  aud  comprehended  everything.  The  brides- 
maids, already  dressed,  and  much  too  elegant  and  helpless  to 
be  of  assistance  to  their  principal,  were  favored  with  a  nod 
of  approval.  The  other  ladies,  endeavoring  by  advice  and 
counsel  to  direct  Patty,  the  housemaid,  in  her  feeble  efforts 
to  bind  and  compel  May's  luxuriant  tresses,  were  not  so  re- 
warded, for  Miss  Ruflle  stared  and  said,  "  O !" 

Had  Mrs.  Southdown  been  gifted  with  the  powers  of  her 
husband,  she  would,  no  doubt,  have  replied  to  this  exclama- 
tion ;  but  she  was  not.  Besides,  the  stout  and  rosy  lady  w^as 
"  worrited"  about  her  youngest  daughter,  who  had  been  left 
at  home  by  her  father's  express  command,  to  come  with  him. 
Mrs.  Southdown  had  remonstrated,  and  pointed  out  the  fact, 
that  Margery  was  the  fourth  and  youngest  bridesmaid,  but 
her  husband  had  replied :  "  My  mind's  made  up !  John  Bull- 
finch will  never  let  his  daater  leave  for  the  church  before  I 
get  there." 


406  THE  WRITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK. 

So,  uuable  to  reply  to  Miss  Euffle's  exclamation,  Mrs.  South- 
down stood  ^Yith  a  ribbon  in  one  hand  and  a  frill  in  the  other, 
and  looked  at  the  black-eyed  invader.  She  had  not  long  to 
look,  for  by  virtue  of  certain  pearls,  certain  laces,  certain 
wreaths,  certain  satin  shoes,  etc.,  derived  from  Lady  Snaffle, 
"  lessor  of  the  plaintiff,"  as  Mr.  Doublefee  would  have  called 
her.  Miss  Kuffle  brought  her  action  of  ejectment,  Kitty  Doe  v. 
Rachel  Roe  et  al.,  and,  taking  possession  of  the  bride,  pro- 
ceeded to  adorn  her  according  to  her  own  art  and  mystery. 

Mr.  Southdown  pulled  up  his  gig  at  Hawkwell,  near  a 
group  of  about  half  a  dozen  of  the  cousins  of  John  Bullfinch, 
who  were  standing  in  the  morning  sunshine,  talking,  not  of 
bridals,  but  of  the  condition  of  the  crops  and  the  state  of  the 
markets.  They  were  florid,  festive-looking  men,  with  the  large 
noses  and  strong  jaws  of  the  family ;  all  were  booted  and 
spurred,  and  all  had  nosegays  of  Mayflowers  in  their  button- 
holes. John  Bullfinch,  Ransome  and  Moleskin  had  rushed 
out  at  the  sight  of  the  gig,  and  they  exclaimed,  cousins  and 
all,  "  Late,  Southdown  !"  as  he  pulled  up. 

"  Late  be  hanged  !  I  shan't  argey  the  p'int !  I  ain't  late, 
but  still  I  see  no  use  in  wasting  time  in  argeymeut,"  said  Mr. 
Southdowm,  taking  John's  arm  and  striding  to  the  door.  "  I 
saw  Sir  Jerry's  carriage ;  he  and  Lady  Snaffle  will  be  at  the 
church." 

He  forgot  all  about  his  daughter  Margery,  youngest  and 
fairest  of  the  Southdown  flock,  who  was  left  sitting  in  the  gig. 
But  Young  Jack,  very  smartly  dressed,  as  he  had  been  from 
an  early  hour,  came  forward.  The  maiden  took  his  hands  and 
jumped  out,  bounding  up  about  a  foot  when  her  toes  came  to 
the  ground,  and  laughing  gleefully. 

"  1  was  so  disappointed  when  your  mother  and  sisters  came 
without  you,"  said  Jack. 

"  Were  you  ?     O,  dear !  how  smart  you  are  !" 

"To  be  sure  !     We  will  walk  together,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  we  will.  I've  been  so  put  about.  The  dresses  didn't 
come  home  until  late  last  evening.  My  sisters— mind,  this  is 
a  secret— couldn't  sleep,  and  got  up  in  the  night  to  try  theirs 
on.  This  morning  there  was  such  a  time.  It  was  Margery 
here,  Margery  there,  and  they  were  so  long,  that  they  had 
to  go  before  I  could  be  dressed.    I  had  no  one  to  help  me  dress 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  407 

but  our  maids  Dolly  and  Jane,  but  we  managed  it,  with  father 
storming  at  the  stair-foot.     How  do  I  look,  Jack  ?" 

"  Beautifid  !  charming  !  You'll  beat  all  but  May,  I  can  tell 
you,"  said  he,  as  the  laughing  maiden  spun  round,  and  shook 
her  muslin  flounces. 

"  Shall  we  go  in  now  ?"  said  she. 

"  No,"  replied  Young  Jack.-  "  We'll  just  step  to  the  stables : 
I  want  to  show  you  something  I  have  got  there.  Mind,  it  is 
a  secret !" 

"  What !  is  the  bear  come.  Jack  ?" 

"Why,  no.  There  hasn't  been  time  yet.  Sassafras  isn't 
much  more  than  landed  in  America.     Come  along." 

Miss  Margery  was  picking  her  way  upon  the  tips  of  her 
slippers,  by  Young  Jack's  side,  when  a  housemaid  came  down 
upon  theni  full  sail,  ribbons  and  frills  below  and  aloft,  crying, 
"  Miss  Margery  !  Miss  Margery  Southdown  !" 

"  I  say,  Meg !"  roared  the  grazier  from  the  parlor  window, 
and  the  maiden  stopped  in  dismay.  The  housemaid,  red  as 
her  own  ribbons,  said,  "  Lord  bless  us,  miss !  Your  ma  and 
sisters  be  in  such  a  taking.  The  bride's  dressed !  The  bride- 
groom and  his  young  men  are  here !  The  ladies  are  a'most 
ready  to  come  down  stairs,  and  you  a  rambling  round  with 
young  master !" 

The  gentlemen  stood  near  the  parlor  door.  There  was  the 
whisper  of  voices,  the  rustle  of  muslin  and  silk  above,  and  down 
came  the  bevy  about  the  young  bride.  May,  leaning  on  her 
father's  arm,  passed  out,  and  as  she  crossed  the  threshold  her 
hand  was  laid  upon  the  great  head  of  the  wise,  faithful  mastiff. 
Fury.  Mrs.  Southdown  followed  with  Tom  Scarlet,  who  looked 
like  a  lord,  as  the  servant  maids  declared.  Then  the  brides- 
maids, and  at  a  little  distance  a  lot  of  friends.  It  was  a  walk 
of  more  than  a  mile  to  the  church.  On  the  bush  at  the  gar- 
den gate  merrily  piped  the  linnet.  On  the  plum-tree  bough, 
all  among  the  blossoms,  the  goldfinch  made  sweet  music.  All 
along  the  spangled  hedgerows  of  the  pasture-land  bullfinches 
flew  and  whistled  loud  and  clear,  in  salutation  to  their  name- 
sake, the  bride.  The  young  colts  and  heifers  stopped  in  their 
frisky  gambols  to  stare  at  her.  Over  her  head  the  skylark 
sang"  a  dropping  from  the  sky."  And  she  was  beautiful?  In 
her  fair  face  mingled  the  blooming  badges  of  two  lines  of  kings, 
for — 


408  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

"  The  ted  and  the  white  rose 
As  all  the  country  knows. 
Were  the  emblems  of  the  foes 
In  a  long  and  bloody  strife  I" 

They  rose  the  hill,  and  over  the  elms  of  the  old  churchyard 
came  the  merry  peal  of  the  marriage  bells  from  the  stout  stone 
tower.  Sir  Jerry  and  Lady  Snaffle  met  them  at  the  church 
door  and  walked  up  the  main  aisle  to  the  chancel  with  them. 
The  Rev.  Mr.  Jericho  was  ready.  The  church  was  full.  The 
housekeeper,  the  cook,  and  the  ladies'  maid  from  the  Hall 
were  in  a  front  pew  in  the  gallery,  from  which  all  the  proceed- 
ings could  be  seen.  The  cook  was  eloquent  over  the  beauty 
of  the  bride,  the  handsome  face  and  fine  figure  of  the  bride- 
groom, with  a  few  remarks  upon  the  bridesmaids.  The  cere- 
mony was  over!  "  Fast  bind,  fast  find."  Tom  Scarlet  and 
May  Bullfinch  were  man  and  wife.  "  He  has  kissed  her !" 
said  the  cook.     "  So  has  her  father !  so  has  Sir  Jerry  !" 

*'  The  idea  of  mentioning  it,  ma'am,"  said  the  ladies'  maid. 

**Why  not?  It  is  proper  and  customary,  my  dear — the 
kissing  of  the  bride — to  a  certain  extent ;  and  so  you'll  find 
when  your  turn  comes.  What  next!"  she  added,  hastily. 
"  Of  all  the  boys  of  that  age,  for  coolness  he  bears  the  bell." 

"What  boy,  ma'am  ?  and  what  has  he  done?" 

"  What  boy  !  why,  Young  Jack.  He'll  come  to  the  altar 
himself — that  I  plainly  see — and  before  long.  As  he  paced 
down  the  aisle,  as  large  as  life,  with  Meg  Southdown  on  his 
arm,  he  cocked  his  head  to  one  side,  and  winked  up  here." 

"Shocking!  the  audacity?"  said  Miss  Ruffle.  "If  he  had 
a  mamma  she  should  be  told  of  it.  I  have  a  great  mind  to 
tell  Lady  Snaffle." 

"You  had  better  not,"  said  the  housekeeper.  "I  have 
found  Master  Bullfinch  a  very  well-behaved  youth,  and  my 
lady  has  often  said  as  much.  There  must  have  been  a  mistake 
as  to  his  winking  up  here.  If  he  did  wink  up  here,  it  must 
be  attributed  to  the  agitation  of  the  moment,  and  his  respect 
for  the  family." 

"  Ay,  perhaps  that  was  it,"  said  the  cook.  "  He  could 
hardly  wink  at  Sir  Jerry,  especially  as  his  honor's  back  was 
to  him  then,  and  so  diverted  his  respect  to  us." 

The  wedding  party  had  walked  to  the  church,  for  that  was 
in  conformity  with  custom,  with  prognostications  of  luck,  and 


TEE  WEITE  EOBSE  OF  WO  OTTO K  409 

"with  the  settled  notions  of  John  Bullfinch,  Mr.  Southdown 
and  all  the  cousins,  male  and  female,  of  the  Bullfinch  blood  • 
but  they  went  back  to  Hawkwell  in  vehicles  and  on  horseback, 
amidst  the  plaudits  of  the  people,  and  attended  by  the  joyful 
pealing  of  the  bells.  Mrs.  Hickman  took  upon  herself  the 
■  marshalling  of  the  guests  to  the  great  tables  spread  indoors 
and  out.  It  was  not  then  the  custom,  which  has  been  heard 
of  in  some  places  since,  for  the  bridegroom  and  bride  to  stand 
up  for  a  while  before  the  company,  and  then  take  an  oppor- 
tunity to  escape  by  stealth,  as  if  they  had  stolen  the  old  peo- 
pie's  spoons,  or  done  something  else  to  be  mortally  ashamed 
of.  No,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Scarlet  would  have  the  places  of  honor 
at  the  feast.  When  they  left  for  a  little  excursion  to  Stowe, 
the  seat  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  the  slippers  would  fly 
out  after  them,  while  tabor  and  pipe  struck  up,  and  the  lads 
and  lasses  began  their  dances  in  the  orchard.  And  when  at 
night,  on  their  return,  with  their  bridesmaids  and  grooms, 
they  reached  the  Grange,  the  door-posts  would  be  hung  with 
myrtle,  and  Tom,  taking  his  bride  round  the  waist  with  his 
strons:  arm,  would  "  over  the  threshold  lift  her  in." 

This  order  of  events  was  a  little  delayed  by  the  sudden  ar- 
rival of  Mr.  Doublefee,  who,  fiery  hot  with  haste,  rushed  up  to 
Tom  Scarlet  and  May,  and  shook  their  hands. 

"  Hem  !  you  were  about  to  sit  down,"  said  he.  "  I  crave  a 
delay  of  a  few  minutes  on  a  matter  of  great  importance.  Mr. 
Bullfinch,  Mr.  Southdown,  I  bring  intelligence  of  weight  and 
import  to  the  future  standing  and  happiness  of  the  amiable 
couple  whose  nuptials  are  the  occasion  of  general  joy.  I  en- 
deavored to  get  here  before  the  wedding " 

"  The  villain  !"  said  old  Mrs.  Oatford  to  her  niece.  "  He 
would  have  stopped  it  if  he  could." 

"But,"  continued  the  lawyer,  "though  I  flew  upon  the 
wings  of " 

"Love!"  said  Young  Jack,  with  Meg  Southdown's  arm 
snugly  tucked  under  his  own. 

"  Not  exactly  love,  my  young  friend.  We  can  hardly  call 
it  love  in  the  pleadings.  Let  us  rather  say  the  wings  of  law 
and  equity  and  testamentary  proceedings." 

"  What  have  they  to  do  with  this  wedding  ?"  said  Mr.  South- 
down.    "  There's  nobody  dead  !" 


410  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  Yes  there  is,  though  !"  replied  Mr.  Doublefee ;  "  and  what 
is  more  the  deceased  made  a  will,  as  my  client  Mr.  Scarlet  and 
Miss  May  Bullfinch  that  was,  now  feme  covert,  will  find,  duly 
proved." 

^'Feme  covert!"  cried  Mrs.  Oatford,  "what  does  the  man 
mean?     I  declare  it's  an  insult." 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind,  madam.  It  means  female  joined  in 
wedlock — a  married  lady." 

"  Go  on,  and  come  to  the  p'int,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Southdown. 

"  Hem !  I  may  say  that  I  came  to  that  a  day  or  two  ago ; 
but  I  shall  now  do  so  as  briefly  as  possible.  Some  fifty  years 
ago  a  certain /e?/ie  sole,  a  spinster  of  the  Scarlet  family,  offended 
her  relations  by  running  off"  with  the  mate  of  a  West  India- 
man  and  getting  married  to  him.  Nothiug  was  heard  of  him 
or  her  for  many  years. 

"  Now  stop !"  said  Admiral  Broadside,  from  the  great  arm- 
chair. "  You  say  this  man  was  mate  of  a  West  Indiaman 
fifty  years  ago." 

"  I  do,  sir ;  and  I  can  prove  the  fact  to  the  satisfaction  of 
any  intelligent  jury." 

"  Then,  sir,"  said  the  Admiral,  "  that  mate  must  have  known 
the  landlady's  daughter  at  Port  Royal,  who  was  very  beau- 
tiful, and  just  like  the  bride  of  to-day.  This  will  corroborate 
the  case,  sir." 

"Thank  you,  sir!"  said  Mr.  Doublefee,  and  continued: 
"  Young  Crosstree  and  his  wife  soon  removed  from  Bristol, 
and  the  mate,  promoted  to  be  captain  of  a  brigantine,  sailed 
out  of  Liverpool,  trading  to  the  west  coast  of  Africa.  Mrs. 
Margaret  Crosstree,  the  captain's  wife,  was  energetic  and 
industrious.  She  took  possession  of  her  husband's  money 
every  time  he  was  in  port,  and  invested  it.  The  captain,  a 
man  of  jovial  disposition,  with  a  constitution  capable  of  en- 
during any — a — a " 

"  Climate,"  said  Young  Jack. 

"  Yes,  climate,  too  ;  but  I  was  about  to  say  any  amount  of 
hard  drinking — became  a  great  favorite  with  the  African 
chiefs — kings  of  Bonny,  Old  Calabar,  &c.,  and  especially  with 
the  renowned  potentate  Ja  Ja  Jumbo.  He  made  much  money 
for  his  owners,  having  a  sort  of  monopoly  of  some  sorts  of 
trade  whenever  he  was  there,  and  he  also  made  a  good  deal 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  V/OOTTON.  411 

of  money  for  himself  In  fact,  it  was  more  than  sufficient  to 
buy  a  snug  estate  of  three  hundred  acres,  arable  and  pasture, 
with  a  substantial  dwelling-house  and  appurtenances.  ^Irs. 
Margaret  made  the  purchase.  The  captain  contented  himself 
with  naming  the  place,  which  he  called  the  Cameroons.  Mrs. 
Margaret  lived  in  the  house.  The  land  was  let  at  a  fair 
rental.  Some  years  passed,  and  at  length  the  worthy  captain 
died,  in  the  Bight  of  Biafra,  of  the  coast-fever,  the  sailors 
said,  but  the  surgeon  of  the  man-of-war  then  upon  the  station 
said,  '  of  too  much  rum.'  But  dead  he  was,  and  his  will  was 
proved,  leaving  the  Cameroons  in  fee  to  Mrs.  Margaret,  to- 
gether with  all  his  personal  j)roperty.  She  continued  to  live 
at  The  Cameroons,  with  two  female  servants  and  a  gardener, 
and  as  she  grew  old  became  eccentric.  The  fact  that  she 
abused  her  relations  was  nothing,  because  it  is  very  common. 
But  she  talked  of  leaving  all  her  property  to  some  benevolent 
society.  It  is  not  certain  that  she  would  ever  have  been  able 
to  determine  which ;  but  something  occurred  quite  recently 
to  divert  her  intentions.  From  her  windows  she  saw,  one  day 
in  January,  two  men  and  a  boy  come  into  the  dairy  ground 
of  The  Cameroons  with  a  White  Horse,  Avhich  was  mounted 
and  galloped.  The  trespass  was  complete,  and  Mrs.  Margaret 
had  a  mind  to  compel  her  tenant  to  sue ;  but  she  first  sent  her 
gardener  to  question  the  parties.  Before  he  got  to  them,  one 
of  the  men,  the  boy,  and  the  horse  had  regained  the  public 
road ;  but  he  returned  to  Mrs.  Margaret  with  the  other  man, 
one  Sassafras." 

*'  I  thought  it  would  come  to  him  when  I  heard  of  the  White 
Horse.     Eh,  Southdown?"  said  John  Bullfinch. 

"  I  remember  the  place  well  enough.  It  is  within  nine  miles 
of  Chester.  We  went  there  because  we  observed  that  the 
dairy  ground  was  good  going  when  our  usual  \vorking  place 
was  hard  from  frost,"  said  Tom  Scarlet. 

"  Hem  !  I  do  not  mind  your  admitting  that,  but  as  to  any- 
thing further,  I  beg  of  you  to  consult  your  legal  adviser,  my- 
self," said  Mr.  Doublefee.  He  then  continued  :  "  What  I  am 
now  about  to  disclose  is  not  only  of  vast  importance  to  you 
and  Mrs.  Scarlet,  but  will  be  of  great  interest  to  all  the  ladies 
and  gentlemen  present,  who  may  be  said  to  be  counsel  in  the 
cause.     Mrs.  Margaret  fancied  that  Sassafras  was  a  good  deal 


412  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

like  her  late  husband  when  she  first  saw  him,  and  asked  him 
if  he  was  not  a  sailor." 

"  He  looked  like  one,"  said  Tom. 

"  I  protest  against  any  further  admissions  on  your  part,  Mr. 
Scarlet,  until  we  have  had  a  consultation.  Sassafras  said  he 
was  not  a  sailor,  but  admitted  that  he  had  once  gone  upon  an 
expedition  to  an  isle  in  the  Carribbean  Sea,  near  what  is 
called — the  name  escapes  me  at  the  moment " 

"  The  Grand  Cayman !"  said  Young  Jack. 

"  Yes,  the  Grand  Cayman.  Mrs.  Margaret  mentioned  the 
trespass  and  directed  her  handmaid  to  set  out  a  bottle  of  rum. 
They  discussed  the  subject  matter.  Sassafras  took  his  neat 
and  cold.  The  venerable  lady  had  hers  in  the  shape  of  hot 
toddy,  compounded  by  the  maid,  whose  practice  had  been  large. 
Sassafras  recited  the  history  of  Tom  Scarlet,  his  love  for  Miss 
Bullfinch,  and  the  engagement  of  the  White  Horse.  The 
venerable  relict  of  the  worthy  captain  asked  many  questions, 
and  made  a  few  comments.  AVhen  Sassafras  left  she  arose, 
and  with  what  he  called  a  lightning  flash  in  her  eyes,  said, 
'  If  he's  a  true  Scarlet,  and  the  man  he  ought  to  be,  he'll  win 
this  race !" 

Loud  applause  interrupted  Mr.  Doublefee,  and  Tom  Scarlet 
was  about  to  speak,  but  the  former  interposed,  hastily  saying, 
"  No  admissions !  Not  a  word  !  Now  mark  me,"  said  Mr. 
Doublefee,  with  a  triumphant  air,  "five  days  after  the  steeple- 
chase, to  wit,  Mrs.  Margaret  sent  for  her  man  of  business — 
meaning  her  attorney — ^aud  upon  his  arrival  she  then  and  there 
executed  a  will.  It  devised  handsome  legacies  to  her  servants, 
and  then  bequeathed  all  the  rest  of  her  estate,  real  and  per- 
sonal— The  Caraeroons  of  three  hundred  acres  in  a  ring  fence, 
with  much  valuable  timber,  constituting  the  former,  and  the 
latter  consisting  of  money  in  the  funds,  and  in  a  bank  in  Liv- 
erpool— to  her  well-beloved  cousin,  Tom  Scarlet  of  the  Grange, 
but  upon  the  condition  that  he  married  May  Bullfinch,  whose 
grandfather  the  testator  had  known  in  her  youth.  The  con- 
ditions really  amounted  to  nothing,  for  he  is  next  of  kin,  and 
would  have  taken  in  that  capacity  if  the  will  had  failed.  Mrs. 
Margaret's  health  failed  rapidly  from  the  time  she  made  her 
will,  and  ten  days  ago  she  died.  If  she  had  survived  a  month 
longer,  it  was  her  intention  to  invite  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Scarlet  to 


*  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  413 

tlie  Cameroons,  and  put  them  in  possession.  As  it  is,  her  man 
of  business  and  myself  have  put  everything  in  proper  train,  and 
I  now  announce,  without  hesitation,  that  my  client,  Mr.  Thomas 
Scarlet  of  The  Grange,  residuary  legatee  and  survivor  of  Mrs. 
Margaret  Crosstree  of  the  Cameroons,  recently  deceased,  has 
an  indefeasible  title." 

"  Sir,  you  are  a  credit  to  your  profession,"  said  Mr.  South- 
down, "  and  it  now  appears  to  me,  that  what  with  the  Grange 
and  the  Cameroons,  Tom  Scarlet  is  a  rich  man." 

"  And  that  makes  no  difference  to  him  except  so  far  as  it 
may  please  his  wife,"  said  Tom.  "  We  really  owe  this  estate 
to  Sassafras,  for  I  never  saw^  cousin— " 

"  No  admissions  !     Not  another  word  !"  cried  Mr.  Doublefee. 

"  Now,  I  think,"  said  Young  Jack,  "  if  everybody  pleases, 
that  it's  all  owing  to  the  White  Horse,  and  as  I  have  him  in 
the  stable,  next  box  to  Cowslip,  I  propose  to  bring  him  out 
when  we  have  eaten  the  w^eddiug  breakfast,  and  distributed 
the  bride-cake." 


CHAPTER  XLHI. 


^HE  finishing  of"  The  White  Horse  of  Woottox"  will  be 
J-  but  the  winding  up  of  a  tale  that  is  told,  as  he  made  no' 
more  races,  but  remained  at  Hawkwell,  the  admired  of  John 
Bullfinch,  Tom  Scarlet,  Southdown,  Ransome  and  Young  Jack. 
His  sons  out  of  Cowslip  and  Young  Cowslip  were  famous 
hunters  and  steeple-chasers.  Sassafras  reached  America  after 
a  stormy  passage,  and  was  married  quietly  to  Miriam  Cots- 
wold  in  the  presence  of  a  few  friends  of  his  father  and  mother. 
A  week  after  the  wedding  he  presented  himself  at  the  office 
of  Mr.  Leith,  greatly  to  the  delight  of  Duncan,  who  had  the 
account  made  up.  The  truth  is  that  Duncan  had  been  in  sore 
trouble  in  respect  to  Sassafras  for  some  months.  In  the  pre- 
ceding winter  old  Mr.  Leith  had  come  in  one  morning  in  a 
heat,  and  told  Duncan  that  they  must  "  hand  the  gear  together" 
for  Sassafras ;  for,  said  he,  "  he's  awa'  aff  to  England  wi'  an- 
ither  daft  loon  of  the  same  stamp  and  a  race-horse,  and  ye  ken, 
Duncan,  they  English  would  just  tak'  the  eyes  oot  of  a.  man's 


414  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  * 

head  in  any  dealings  about  race-horses,  and  the  like  of  things 
that  goes  on  at  Kewmarket.  AYhy  could  na'  the  chiel  stay 
here?" 

"  Aweel,  sir,"  said  Duncan,  "  Sassafras  is  no'  that  easy  to 
beat  in  regard  to  horses  and  racing,  as  I  have  heard  from  mair 
than  ane.  He  may  beat  tha  Southron  bodies  at  their  own 
game  at  Newmarket." 

"  I  have  na  muckle  hopes  of  ony  such  thing,  Duncan.  Ye'll 
find  he'll  come  back  a  broken  man." 

Therefore,  when  Duncan  found  Sassafras  in  presence,  his 
joyful  greeting  was  mixed  with  lamentations  over  the  losses 
he  supposed  the  Western  man  had  incurred. 

"Losses!"  said  Sassafras,  "man  alive,  what  losses?  I'm 
richer  by  thousands  of  dollars  than  I  was  when  I  went  away." 

"  Save  us,  Sassafras  !  Ye  dinna  mean  to  avouch  that  ye  ha' 
beat  the  English  at  Newmarket  ?" 

"  Why,  no  !  not  at  Newmarket,  but  in  the  Midland  Coun- 
ties, Duncan,  the  famous  Vale  of  Aylesbury.  We  won  a  stee- 
ple-chase for  a  thousand  pounds  a  side,  and  I  had  a  bet  with 
the  Duke  of  Jumpover  for  a  hundred  ounces  of  gold." 

"  Lord  save  us!  a  thousand  pund  sterling !  I'd  gie  a  baw^bee 
if  oor  Mr.  Leith  was  in  tli  3  day.  He's  awa  to  New  York,  but 
in  course  ye'll  wait  his  return.  A  hundred  ounces  of  gold ! 
And  of  a  Duke,  too !  I  hope  he  didna  pay  ye  wi'  a  bill ! 
Tha  Dukes  is  no'  that  sure  of  a  cash  balance  at  their  bank- 
ers." 

'•  He  paid  in  Bank  of  England  notes,  and  here  they  are," 
said  Sassafras.  "  The  man  is  a  trump — real  gentleman !  so 
were  all  that  I  met  with  in  the  little  Island  over  yonder.  I 
want  to  deposit  these  notes  with  you  for  the  present." 

"My  certie.  Sassafras,  the  sight  of  them  is  gude  for  sair  een. 
Ye  ken  we've  uae  sich  banlio  here  as  yon  Bank  of  England." 

Sassafras  then  explained  that  he  had  won  a  wife,  as  well  as 
the  wealth,  and  meant  to  take  her  out  to  visit  a  cousin  in  the 
country.  When  he  returned  they  would  have  a  settlement  as 
to  the  tobacco,  robes  and  furs. 

"And  thereby,  man,  I  hae  a  tale  to  tell,"  said  Duncan, 
eagerly.  "  Ye'll  mind  the  silver  fox-skins  ye  made  a  present 
of  to  oor  ]\[iss  Janet  ?  We  sent  them  to  Lunnon  to  be  dressed 
and  made  up.     At  the  beginning  of  the  winter  they  w^ere  re- 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  415 

turned.  Miss  Janet  first  wore  them  to  church.  Sassafras,  ye 
shuld  hae  seen  all  the  leddies  eyeing  the  silver  fox  furs,  and 
ready  to  faint  \vi'  envy.  Ye  see,  the  puir  bodies  had  naething 
on  but  mink  and  otter — the  very  best  of  them — and  son;e 
naething  but  red  fox  and  muskrat,  while  oor  Miss  Janet  was 
just  resplendent  in  the  silver  fox  fit  for  a  princess.  Man,  the 
vera  minister  could  na'  tak'  his  eyes  aff  her.  Mv.  Leith  was 
fu'  o'  pride — mair  sae  than  was  proper  for  the  place.  As  for 
Angus  McTartar— he's  coorting  her,  ye  ken— when  we  got 
hame  he  just  threw  aff  his  hat  and  coat  and  dancit  the  Hie- 
land  fling  while  the  young  leddy  was  up-stairs.  'Twas  wrang 
on  the  Sabbath,  Sassafras,  but  ye  see  tha  Hieland  lovers  hae 
na  that  reverence  that  beseems  the  day." 

Sassafras  and  his  bride  spent  a  week  or  two  at  Pierce's,  and 
Elizabeth  was  much  pleased  with  her  cousin.  On  the  evening 
of  the  day  they  left  for  the  West,  Pierce  stood  behind  his  bar, 
intently  regarding  his  man  Jake.  Finally  he  produced  the 
peach  and  honey,  and,  with  a  pantomimic  gesture,  signified 
that  the  negro  should  help  himself. 

"  Mrs.  Sassafras,  Jake,  may  not  have  cdl  the  accomplishments 
of  Mrs.  Pierce — Elizabeth — but  she's  a  very  beautiful  woman." 

"  Dar'  no  handsomer  young  'oman,  sa,  in  de  Ole  Dominion," 
returned  Jake. 

"  And  her  manners,  Jake,  and  her  style,  are  superior." 

"Why,  of  course,  Pierce,"  said  the  voice  of  Elizabeth,  from 
the  stairs.  "  My  cousin,  Miriam,  is  not  only  an  English  lady, 
but  in  some  sort  a  daughter  of  the  Old  Dominion,  Pierce,  be- 
ing a  descendant  of  Captain  John  Smith  and  the  Princess 
Pocahontas,  Pierce !" 

It  was  some  years  before  Elizabeth  was  undeceived  as  to 
this  matter. 

Five  months  after  Sassafras  and  Miriam  reached  the  plan- 
tation there  was  a  meeting  at  the  trading-post  between  them 
and  the  Indian  chief,  who  had  come  eastward  with  a  band  of 
his  young  men  for  the  purpose  of  greeting  his  old  friends. 
He  'brought  many  presents  for  Miriam,  and  there  arrange- 
ments were  made  for  the  shipment  of  the  elk,  the  buffalo  and 
Young  Jack's  bear  upon  the  Arkansas.  The  precise  locality 
of  this  post  is  in  dispute.  Some  think  it  was  in  Arkansas, 
some  in  Missouri,  some  in  the  territory  of  the  Cherokees,  and 


416  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTOK 

some  carry  it  much  further  west  into  Kansas.  The  precise 
pLace  of  the  events  related  is  not  of  much  moment.  The  post 
is  like  Prospero's  Isle. 

"  Since  that  time  the  Isle  hath  been 
By  wandering  sailors  never  seen." 

When  Sassafras  became  a  father  he  gave  up  his  roving 
habits  to  a  considerable  extent,  though  he  still  went  West 
nearly  every  fall  to  hunt  with  the  chief  of  the  Cheyennes 
about  the  forks  of  the  Canadian  river. 

Once  only  Cinnamon  visited  him  at  the  plantation  near  St. 
Jo.,  but  he  did  not  remain  long.  He  was  soon  head  chief  of 
his  great  tribe,  but  nothing  could  ever  induce  him  to  pay  a 
visit  to  his  "  Great  Father  at  Washington."  The  only  white 
man,  besides  Sassafras,  for  whom  the  chief  had  a  high  respect 
was  the  late  General  Harney.  Much  communication  was  kept 
up  between  Sassafras  and  his  wife  and  their  English  friends. 
When  the  Duke  of  Jumpover's  nephews  visited  America,  and 
the  plantation  at  St.  Jo.,  to  hunt  with  Sassafras  and  go  out 
upon  the  plains  to  Cinnamon's  country,  the  young  lads  who 
went  with  them  were  called  respectively  Tom  Scarlet  Sassa- 
fras and  John  Bullfinch  Sassafras,  and  the  beautiful  dark- 
eyed  young  girl  whom  they  left  with  her  mother  ^at  the  plan- 
tation answered  to  the  name  of  May.  The  Frenchmen,  Jules 
and  Antoiue,  were  also  of  the  party,  and  many  trophies  of 
the  chase  were  secured. 

It  was  on  their  return  from  this  expedition  that  Sassafras 
brought  the  party  to  a  halt  in  a  wild  and  broken  spot,  and 
said  :  "  This  is  the  very  place  where  the  Choctaw  killed  Cap- 
tain Staples.  You  see,  the  captain  had  hired  the  Indian  to 
track  Tom  Scarlet  and  me ;  and  when  the  old  man  sought  his 
camp,  after  the  doings  at  the  ford,  he  found  the  Indian  there. 
The  fact  is  that  the  Choctaw  found  he  had  been  duped  in  the 
pay.  A  difficulty  arose.  The  captain  pulled  a  pistol,  but  he 
was  too  slow,  for  the  Indian  jumped  in  with  his  knife,  and 
that  settled  it." 

The  elk,  the  buffalo  and  the  bear  had  arrived  in  England 
long  before  that  time,  and  the  former  bred  in  Sir  Jerry  Snaffle's 
park  and  in  that  of  the  Duke  of  Jumpover.  But  the  bear 
was  not  a  success.  At  first,  from  his  huge  size  and  his  fierce- 
ness, he  was  the  wonder  of  the  countrv  side,  and  the  delight 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  417 

of  Young  Jack.  But  trouble  soon  began.  Moleskin  com- 
plained to  John  Bullfinch,  as  they  sat  over  their  pipes  and 
ale,  that  the  bear  attracted  all  sorts  of  rough  characters  to  the 
neighborhood  from  Oxford,  Banbury,  Birmingham,  Coventry 
and  the  Black  Country.  The  truth  is  that  for  some  time  the 
"fancy"  of  those  parts  could  not  be  persuaded  that  their 
bulldogs  and  mastiffs  were  not  equal  to  the  baiting  of  young 
Bullfinch's  bear,  and  on  a  Sunday  some  twenty  or  thirty  men, 
with  as  many  dogs,  used  to  assemble  at  the  saw-pit,  in  which 
the  bear  was  chained.  Finally  matters  came  to  a  climax.  Bar- 
ton and  Ford  arrived  with  four  powerful  bull  mastiffs,  descended 
from  the  famous  bitch  who  had  taken  the  lion  Wallace  by  the 
hock,  and  made  him  roar  with  anguish,  when  he  fought  the 
six  dogs  at  Warwick  for  a  thousand  pounds.  Ford  protested 
that  Bullfinch's  American  bear  was  not  a  fair  bear,  and 
claimed  that  the  four  dogs  should  be  slipped  at  once.  If  it 
had  been  a  "  Rooshian"  bear,  he  protested  that  he  would  have 
been  content  to  let  go  one  at  a  time.  After  some  altercation 
Young  Jack  stipulated  for  two  at  a  time,  and  down  the  slope 
into  the  pit  they  went,  set  on  by  Barton.  The  others  were 
furious,  and  Ford,  pretending  that  he  was  unable  to  hold  them, 
let  them  go  too.  A  desperate  fight  ensued.  Finally,  the  bear 
broke  the  collar  to  which  his  chain  was  attached,  and  climbed 
out  of  the  pit.  Before  he  could  be  got  in  again  he  hurt  three 
or  four  men  and  a  shortrhorn  bull^^nd  was  eventually  shot  by 
Moleskin  in  the  brisket. 

But  if  Master  Bullfinch  experienced  some  disappointment 
and  a  failure  in  regard  to  the  bear,  he  soon  had  a  notable  tri- 
umph in  another  respect.  His  was  a  busy  life  for  a  youth. 
In  spring  and  summer  and  in  the  ripe  time  of  harvest  he 
"was  a-field  early  and  late,  and  during  the  winter,  in  the  hunt- 
ing season,  he  was  chief  confidant  and  adviser  of  young  Lord 
Doomsday.  On  the  great  day  when  Lord  Doomsday  with 
Blue  Peter  beat  his  brothers-in-law  in  a  steeple-chase  down  the 
Vale,  Jack  was  in  his  glory.  Tom  Scarlet  had  trained  the 
horse,  and  Master  Bullfinch  had  ridden  him  in  his  work.  The 
line  was  the  same  as  that  over  which  the  White  Horse  ran. 
The  brothers-in-law  not  only  got  into  the  big  brook,  but  fell 
at  Barker's  Bullfinch  as  well ;  but,  as  Rose  Tanner  remarked, 
they  were  ready  "  to  come  lO  time,"  and  said,  after  it  was  over, 
27 


418  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  Let  Doomsday  lend  us  the  money,  and  we  will  run  again  in 
a  month." 

Eose's  brothers  in  Australia  continued  to  prosper.  They 
became  possessed  of  great  tracts  of  land  and  vast  flocks  of 
sheep.  They  sent  mouey  every  year  to  Rose,  but  it  was  al- 
ways remitted  to  John  Bullfinch,  as  the  gypsies  continued  to 
harbor  doubts  touching  the  honesty  of  the  parson  of  the 
parish.  Jack  Cotswold  was  soon  very  well  off.  His  horse- 
dealing  was  carried  on  with  much  shrewdness  and  success,  and 
a  great  venture  on  Bay  Middleton,  through  hints  from  John 
Bullfinch  and  Tom  Scarlet,  who  continued  to  be  very  intimate 
with  Ransome,  netted  him  a  large  sum  when  that  famous  colt 
won  the  Derby.  But  what  most  excited  the  admiration  and 
delight  of  the  good  people  of  the  Vale  at  the  time  of  that  glo- 
rious event  was  the  fact  that  Lady  Snaffle's  maid,  Miss  Kitty 
Ruflae,  won  five  hundred  pounds.  Beiug  in  waiting  on  Lady 
Snaffle  at  Middleton  during  her  usual  winter  visit  to  Lady 
Jersey,  Miss  Kitty  learned  the  opinion  of  the  countess  in 
respect  to  the  prospects  of  Bay  Middleton.  She  requested  Sir 
Jerry  Snaffle  to  bet  twenty-five  pounds  for  her,  probably 
moved  .thereto  by  the  Spanish  blood  in  her  veins,  stood  it  out 
when  the  odds  got  short  and  the  baronet  advised  her  to  hedge, 
and  won  five  hundred  pounds.  On  the  same  race  Lady  Jer- 
sey's coachman,  the  Duke  of  Grafton's  coachman,  and  Lady 
Snaffle's  coachman  won  heaps  of  money  ;  but  nothing  was  so 
much  talked  of  from  Aylesbury  to  Whittlebury  Forest,  and 
from  Belvoir  Castle  to  the  classic  courts  of  Oxford,  as  the 
gameness  of  the  little  lady's  maid  in  standing  the  bet  out  and 
winning  a  handsome  marriage  portion.  Intelligence  of  this 
was  written  to  Sassafras  and  Miriam  by  Young  Jack,  and  he 
concluded  his  letter  by  stating  that  he  should  have  got  as 
much  put  on  for  Margery  Southdown,  only  his  father  and  his 
sister  May  forbade  him.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  Parkins 
did  not  very  long  retain  the  confidence  and  countenance  of 
the  higher  authorities.  As  he  got  older  he  grew  more  and 
more  addicted  to  captious  meddlesomeness,  and  retaining  at 
the  same  time  his  devotion  to  "No.  1,  brass  tap,  right-hand 
side  of  the  cellar,"  he  was  ousted  of  his  office.  John  Bull- 
finch continued  to  entertain  Moleskin  very  frequently.  When 
his  daughter  was  at  the  Grange  John  rode  over  every  day,  but 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  419 

she  and  her  husband  were  often  at  Hawkwell.  One,  two, 
three  times  John  took  pen  in  hand  to  announce  to  Sassafras 
and  Miriam  that  there  was  an  increase  in  his  daughter's 
family.  The  first  child  was  a  boy,  and  by  the  sage  advice  of 
the  keeper  the  child  was  christened  John,  for  said  he :  "  You 
thereby  knock  down  four  out  of  the  covey.  There's  you, 
John  Bullfinch,  and  if  the  baby  takes  after  you  he'll  do. 
There's  John  Sassafras  in  America,  also  a  good  man  and  true. 
There's  John  Scarlet  in  the  old  churchyard,  and  there's  Young 
Jack,  so-called,  his  real  name  being  John." 

"  I  shan't  interfere  in  regard  to  the  name,  sir,"  replied  John. 
"  My  daater  is  not  likely  to  choose  any  outlandish  name. 
Your  arguments  are  good,  so  far  as  they  go.  But  May  will 
be  apt  to  please  herself" 

"  Jest  so  !"  said  the  keeper,  "  I  always  said  she'd  have  her 
own  way,  in  spite  of  you  or  Tom  either." 

"  None  of  that,  sir,"  said  John,  with  some  severity.  "  My 
daater  is  now  a  mother,  and  is  more  like  her  own  mother  than 
ever." 

"  And  a  little  like  her  father,  too,  as  her  husband  will  find 
if  he  ever  takes  occasion  to  contradict  her,  which,  like  a  wise 
man,  he  has  not  yet  done,"  said  the  keeper.  "  Now  John  is  a 
good  name — a  good  eldest-born,  son-and-heir  sort  o'  name. 
There's  two  estates  in  the  family — let  May  call  her  baby  John, 
after  you,  after  Sassafras,  after  Young  Jack,  after  Captain 
John  Crosstree  of  The  Cameroons,  and  after  the  late  John 
Scarlet.  I  have  said  my  say.  You  may  put  it  out  of  the  way 
by  obstinacy,  but  not  by  argeyment,  not  by  argeyment." 

With  this  the  keeper  replenished  his  pipe,  drank  a  great 
draught  from  the  tankard,  and  looked  John  in  the  face. 

"  John,  sir,  is  a  good  name — a  very  good  name.  Nobody 
has  said  anything  against  the  name,"  replied  John  Bullfinch, 
with  some  heat,  "  but  it  is  not  the  only  name.  There  has  been 
many  a  Charles  in  our  family  time  out  of  mind " 

"  So  there  has,"  said  the  keeper,  striking  in,  "  and  what's 
more,  there  is  now.  There's  Charlie  Bullfinch  of  the  Mill. 
He's  a  known  man — none  better  in  the  county  at  a  feast  or  a 
fight.  Then  there's  Charlie  of  Cherwell  side,  better  known 
as  Charlie-over-the- Water,  most  likely  because  he  never  drinks 
any.  O !  the  Bullfinches  have  got  their  Charlies  in  the 
country  still." 


420  THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON. 

"  Sir,"  said  John,  with  a  little  dignity,  "  nobody  ventures  to 
say  anything  against  the  miller  and  the  grazier  in  their  pres- 
ence. Besides,  sir,  my  uncle  Charles,  of  Bath,  was  one  of  the 
most  eminent  physicians  in  this  kingdom.  He  was  often  called 
in  to  attend  royalty." 

"  As  often  as  it  had  the  gout !"  said  Moleskin,  "  and  I've 
heerd  that  his  treatment  was  esteemed  in  that  family  because 
his  favorite  prescription  was  took  in  brandy  and  water.  But 
who  said  anything  agen  Doctor  Charles?" 

"  Nobody  can  say  anything  against  him,  sir,  and  my  daater 
May  may  wish  to  call  her  boy  after  her  learned  and  distin- 
guished grand-uncle,  or  she  may  wish  to  call  him  after  his 
father,  Tom.  Or,  as  Sir  Jerry  and  Lady  Snaffle  have  been 
always  very  kind  to  her,  treating  her,  as  she  says,  almost 
like  a  daughter,  she  may  call  the  boy  Jerry." 

"  I  object  to  Jerry,"  said  the  keeper.  "  But  if  you  j'ine 
the  two  names  and  make  it  '  Tom  and  Jerry,'  the  boy  will  be 
popular  in  these  parts.  You  advise  Mrs.  Scarlet  to  call  the 
young  'un  Tom  and  Jerry." 

"  I  will  first  advise  you  not  be  a  fool,  sir,"  said  John  Bull- 
finch, sternly.  '''She  may  wish  to  call  the  boy  Kichard,"  he 
continued,  raising  his  voice  and  rising  from  his  chair.  "  Do 
you  object  to  Richard,  sir  ?  Have  you  anything  to  say  against 
Richard,  sir?  There  have  always  been  four  or  five  Richards 
in  our  family,  and  there  are  now." 

"  Then  that's  plenty,"  said  the  keeper,  "  especially  as  Rough- 
riding  Dick  of  Heythrop  is  one  on  'em." 

"  I  think  it  is  likely  this  child  may  be  called  Dick — I  mean 
Richard,"  said  John.  "  Four  of  my  cousins  will  take  it  as  a 
compliment.  Besides,  there's  Richard  Southdown,  family  con- 
nection as  will  be ;  and  your  own  name  is  Richard,  to  boot. 
What  do  you  mean  by  abusing  the  name  of  Richard,  sir?" 

A  reply  was  prevented  by  the  entrance  of  Young  Jack, 
who  had  been  at  Southdown 's,  where  indeed  he  was  very  often, 
much  to  the  scandal  of  the  older  Misses  Southdown,  who  never 
ceased  to  insist  upon  the  fact  to  their  mother  that  Margery 
was  but  "  a  child.'" 

"  I  know,  my  dears,"  the  good  lady  replied.  "  Still,  she  and 
young  Bullfinch  may  be  said  to  be  engaged.  Your  father's 
mind  is  made  up,  and  when  Young  Jack  is  twenty-one  they 
will  soon  be  married.     There  now,  it's  out !" 


THE  WHITE  HORSE  OF  WOOTTON.  421 

May's  first-born  was  called  John.  The  next  child  born  at 
Hawkwell — for  May  went  home  on  these  occasions — was  a 
girl,  and  by  general  acclamation  of  all  the  family  and  friends 
this  baby  was  called  May.  And  then,  behold !  in  fulfilment 
of  a  prediction  by  Rose  Tanner,  after  long  consultation  of  the 
stars,  came  female  twins,  and  these  were  called  Margaret  and 
Miriam.  That  was  a  christening !  Lady  Snafile  was  again 
godmother;  Lord  Doomsday  stood  godfather.  Presents  rich 
and  rare  were  showered  upon  the  infants.  The  young  mother 
• — beautiful  as  ever,  paler  than  usual,  still  blooming  like  the 
red  and  the  white  rose — was  the  object  of  a  hundred  toasts. 
From  all  the  country  round  there  was  a  great  flight  of  the 
Bullfinches  to  the  christening  of  the  twins.  Best  of  all,  Sas- 
safras "  happened  over,"  as  he  called  it,  at  that  time  and  was 
present.  Then  it  was  that  he  struck  hands  with  Charlie  of 
the  Mill,  Charlie  over  Cherwell  AYater,  Rough-riding  Dick 
and  a  score  of  other  Bullfiuches ;  and  there  and  then  observ- 
ing that  while  Master  Bullfinch  was  still  "  Young  Jack"  with 
the  cousins,  Mr.  Southdown  and  the  keeper,  his  name  had 
ripened  and  mellowed  into  "  John"  upon  the  lips  of  May  and 
his  brother-in-law,  and  those  of  Lord  Doomsday,  Mrs.  South- 
down and  her  daughter  Margery,  the  Western  man  remarked 
to  John  Bullfinch,  Sr.,  "  I  see  that  I  shall  soon  have  to  come 
across  again,  and  bring  Miriam !" 


THE   END. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


3^,?^ffi^"^' 

RilC'D  LD 

APR  1 9  1961 

LD  21A-50m-12,'60 
(B6221sl0)476B 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


